Horseman
by Aglaranna
Summary: Sam and Dean thought they knew the fight. That was until they received an unexpected visitor: a girl named Gail Olivia Sparks. Thrust into an ancient war they barely understand, they must rely on the most unreliable of allies, the former Horseman of War.
1. Chapter 1: Strange Crazy Person

HorsemanRating: PG-13

**Summary:** Alone in the midst of the turbulence of Season 5, Dean receives an unexpected visitor. A girl named Gail Sparks shows up and tells them that she's they're new bodyguard, here to protect them from Lucifer and the forces of darkness. There's just one problem, she's got a split personality. One half is an innocent young girl, the other is a Blood Knight, a creature who lives only to fight, a being that has existed from the beginning of Creation and is the former Rider of War.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Supernatural and any of the characters it contains. The Horsemen of the Apocalypse are in the public domain and can be used by anyone, however these particular incarnations are mine, along with Gail Olivia Sparks, Mace, the Eternals, the Ancients, and most of the Hierarchy, along with any of my invented change-ups to the mythology. But the characters are Kripke's and I thank him for creating the likes of Dean and Sam.

**Chapter One**: **Strange Crazy Person**

_Beyond this place of wrath and tears looms_

_but the Horror of the Shade,_

_And yet the menace of the years finds and shall find,_

_me unafraid._

_It matters not how straight the gate, how charged_

_with punishment the Scroll._

_I am the Master of my Fate; I am the Captain of my Soul. _

-W.E Henley, "Invictus"

**Pine Creek, Delaware**

The midnight moon stood at its apex in the star filled ink dark sky. Gray clouds hung at the bottom of the horizon as the overhead white spots watched the bustling bodies moving in and out through the electronic doors of St. Jude's Hospital. Silver light shone down across the parking lot as cars pulled up and went, carrying the wounded, the sick, and the injured inside for treatment. The moon's rays were harsh as it gazed down on the scene, aware that only a day before an event had occurred that would shake the very foundations of reality.

A prophecy. One that had been promised since the very moment Eve had taken a bite of the apple and humankind had been cast out of the Garden, into a world filled with sin. One that had been warned the day the Morning Star, the most beautiful angel had tried to set his throne above the Lord's and led the Heavenly Host into a grand and glorious civil war. Brother against brother, angel against angel, Lucifer against Michael. On the day that Lucifer was cast down with a third of Heaven's most glorious into the Pit, to suffer their disobedience for eternity, the prophecy had been sealed in their blood and signed by their hunger for revenge, their hatred for humanity. Their prison sealed with the number 66 and engraved the soul of the first woman created by the Lord, the first betrayer. Lillith.

The prophecy had waited a millennia. The Fallen waiting in the depths of their prison, gathering their forces, the humans drown downward by temptation and sin, torturing them, destroying them, turning them into soldiers. As time went by, their army grew stronger and what had once been a small force of 100,000 grew to millions. But they waited for the prophecy, knowing it was only that which would free them. Sitting still, almost forgotten, they waited for a child with the blood of man and the damned to destroy the first seal at the end of the others and unleash hell on earth. At least, that was the story the Hierarchy told and that the humans repeated unknowing in their small stream of space and time. That was the story to be believed.

But the moon knew, as it watched it's rays descend and glance off the slick wet asphalt, it knew that was not the whole truth. For mortal minds could never truly grasp the complexities of the universe, nor the war that had raged for centuries between the forces of Heaven and Hell in different countries, upon different continents, and different worlds. The moon did not understand, but it knew, and watched with indifference as it's light caught the figures of two young men arguing on the in front of the Hospital entry. Knowing that they too would soon be inducted into the secrets of the Hierarchy, for it sensed what the universe had always known. It quivered before the knowledge of things to come and the eternal faces about to be let loose upon the surface of the Earth.

Below and unaware of the moon's contemplations, Dean Winchester wasn't having the best day. His friend, mentor, and father figure Bobby Singer had just been shot by demons intent on finding the Sword of Michael. If that wasn't hard enough, Bobby had been told that he might never walk again. While Dean didn't give a rats ass about the opinions of doctors, he couldn't stop the dripping guilt that told him this was once again his fault. He should have recognized that Bobby had been possessed, that he wasn't behaving like himself, Dean knew he should have _known_. But he wasn't some kind of super human. He didn't have any kind of special powers.

But this was only the latest bit of bad news. The day had started with Lucifer busting free from his prison after Sammy had killed the demon Lillith and broke the final seal. Something Dean was finding hard to forgive, very hard. That had been followed by a visit to Chuck Shurley, who'd informed them both that Castiel had exploded. The angels and Zachariah had shown up again, but a trick that Cas had taught Dean, resulted in him being able to send them away. Then they'd been visited by a crazy fangirl, who'd spent far too much of her time creepily stroking Sam's pectorals while delivering a message about the damn sword of Michael. Bobby had been possessed and shot. Sam and Dean went to their father's old storage locker to find the sword, only to discover that the angels and demons had beaten them to it. _And Zachariah tells me that I'm the fucking Sword of Michael._ He'd given Dean stomach cancer, broken Sam's legs, and evaporated Sam's lungs in an attempt to force Dean to agree to becoming some kind of angel condom. It had been a test of strength, but Dean had refused. Before matters could get out of hand, the dead Castiel had turned up and killed two of the angels, scaring Zachariah off. He'd then healed both Sam and Dean and carved a magical protection onto their ribs to prevent the angels from finding them again. _Oh, yeah, and Meg is back._ Now, he and Sam were having a face off outside of St. Jude's Hospital, out of Bobby's earshot. It was the end to a very, very bad day and Dean was discovering that he just couldn't keep it in anymore. _The betrayal, the apocalypse, how fucked up things are._ Not to mention the question of who or what had saved them from Lucifer's ascension.

_Yeah, something fuckin's saves us, only to stick me on a plane! A fuckin' plane!_ Being magically transported from one terror into another had been the perfect start of the day. _The only bright spot was killing that bitch Ruby._ And Dean was more than willing to trade the moment back for the whole disaster never happening in the first place.

"You know I was thinking Dean, maybe we could go after the Colt."

Sam was talking. Dean wasn't really in the mood to listen to Sam talking. But his brother's voice grated in his ears, a reminder of what Dean hadn't been able to stop. Of what Sam did.

"Why?" Dean asked. "What difference would that make?"

The flashing red and white lights of a passing ambulance glanced off his rugged features, their wild blinking reflected in his green eyes. His shoulders were slouched beneath the stress weighing on his mind and he stepped down off the sidewalk, not wanting to lift his eyes and search for his baby, the 1967 night black Chevy Impala. He wasn't a tall man, barely reaching six feet in height and was dwarfed next to Sammy's six foot four inches. He found himself wanting to stuff his hands into his pockets, but instead let them hang uselessly at his sides, buffeted by the cool breeze. He kept walking and Sam's steps were in time with his own.

"Well," Sam said. "We could use it on Lucifer. I mean back there you said—"

Dean shut his eyes, his head rolling back in frustration. "I said a bunch of crap for Bobby's benefit." He came to a stop in the center of the parking lot. Dean didn't want to do this anymore. He watched with an irritated sigh as his brother circled around in front of him. Was there anything he could do to get rid of Sam? "I mean," he chuckled, glancing towards the thick cluster of trees standing in the mist at the far end of the lot. His eyes caught the darkness for a moment and held it, a shiver ran up his spine and he swallowed. It still felt like they were being watched. Dean turned back to face his brother. "I'll fight." He said. "I'll fight to the last man, but let's at least be honest. I mean, let's at least be honest. We don't stand a snowball's chance and you know that." Dean watched, his irritation growing as Sam looked away and sighed. _Yeah, be like that Sammy. I don't give a rat's ass anymore._ "I mean you of all people should know that."

Unable to keep the venom from his voice and unwilling to look at his brother any longer, he brushed past Sam's shoulder and started walking away. _I've had it up to here with this. With all of this._ All he could see in his mind was his brother's face after he'd thrown Dean through a wall. All he could remember was Sam leaving him on that floor. That Sammy had trusted Ruby instead of his own flesh in blood. That he'd allowed himself to be seduced by that whore! That he hadn't listened. That Sam had begun the end of the world. _All because of stupid pride!_ Dean was convinced that was all it was. _Pride!_ Hubris! Sam had always wanted to be normal. _Well, he'll never be that._ Sam had always wanted to be special. _He wanted my job and look where it got him._ His brother had wanted to be a hero and instead become an unwitting villain. _How could he be such an idiot?_

"Dean!" Dean turned back to face his brother, listening as Sam let out a long, heavy sigh. "Is there something you want to say to me?"

Dean lifted his head and stared straight into Sam's soulful brown eyes. _Let's be honest here._ There was a momentary pause and then he looked to the side and down, sucking in a heady breath, shaking his head. Finally, he looked up at Sam.

"I tried, Sammy." He said. Shaking his head, Dean could barely believe the words that were coming out his own mouth. Still, he couldn't stop them. It was as if a damn had burst in his chest and all his feelings were just pouring out. He was too tired to hold it in anymore. "Man, I really tried. But I just can't keep pretending that everything's all right." Dean stared at Sam. "Because it's not. And it's never going to be. You chose a demon over your own brother and look what happened!"

"I would give anything. Anything!" Sam said. "To take it all back."

"I know you would, and I know how sorry you are, I do." Dean continued. The weight on his shoulders was crushing him and tears were burning at the corners of his eyes. But crying was what the old Dean did, the Dean who'd been broken by hell, the Dean who hadn't been strong enough to stop Sammy when everything was on the line. And he knew that he couldn't be that Dean anymore. Now the planet was truly at stake, human life, the world as he knew it, everything. He had to be stronger. He wouldn't show his brother how much this was killing him. Dean looked up at Sam, his gaze heated with the sting of betrayal. "You were the one I depended on the most!" He growled. His voice was hoarse in his throat, his esophagus tightening, his hands balled into fists at his side. "And you let me down in ways that I can't even…" Dean took a deep breath, shaking his head as he stared at Sammy. There was another long pause as he swallowed, looking away, and then finally back at his brother's face. "I'm just, I'm having a hard time forgivin' and forgettin' here. You know?"

"What can I do?" Sam asked.

Dean snorted and looked down. _Nothing._ The truth rang through his mind before he could stop it. His heart winced. Dean shook his head and looked up. "Honestly?" He asked. Then his mouth pressed into a thin line as his forehead creased. The word came out in a thick whisper, almost as if he was afraid of saying the word. It was a sentiment he could never take back. It hurt him to say it, even more than it hurt Sam to hear it. "Nothing." He watched his brother shift and look down, his shoulders beginning to shake. Dean looked away, over at the ambulance unloading its wounded. "It's just…" He trailed off. "I don't think we can ever be what we were." He shrugged, his lips pursed and pressed together. It hurt to say the words. "You know?" Slowly, he watched his brother nod in agreement. "I just don't think I can trust you."

Sam looked up in surprise, but Dean had already moved away. He turned, his back to his brother and began the long slow stumble towards the Impala. Dean needed to get out of here. To find a bar, get drunk, get laid, at least some of, if not all of the above. He had to get away from Sam. He couldn't look at him anymore, didn't want to think about him, or the entire mess. Didn't want to remember that the angels wanted him to play host to their grand general or that they were willing to do anything and everything to achieve that goal. To force him to accept it. _Thank god, they can't find me right now._ The world was collapsing on top of him and Dean Winchester could see no way to escape.

"Wow." A cheery feminine voice made Dean's eyes shoot up off the pavement and saw a tiny young woman seated on the hood of the Impala. Her white and blue sneakers hanging down over the rubber wheel, skinny jeans hugging her waist and thighs tightly, a long sleeved shirt loose over her teeny upper body, her brunette hair was pulled back into a bumpy ponytail, and she was watching him with wide hazel eyes. "That's gotta be the most touching break up I've ever seen."

"Who?" Dean began. He was aware that Sam was behind him, but he didn't know whether or not his brother was looking. _What the hell?_ Hadn't he dealt with enough crazy for one day?

"Short of the movies I mean." She continued, her head tilting to the side. "You're pretty good looking, but you're no Gerard Butler or Leonardo DiCaprio." The girl paused. "Wait."

Dean decided she had to be in her teens or not long out of them, his hand moved towards his pocket, searching for a weapon. _I'm not taking any chances._

"Do people even still remember the Titanic?" Her small, rosebud mouth pursed thoughtfully as her eyes swept across him studiously and she blew a long dull strand off her nose. "Don't know why I'm bringing it up, I hate that movie." She sighed loudly, her shoulders drooping. "I guess it doesn't matter anyway. Life isn't a movie, or a comic book, or a novel." She fixed him with another long stare. "And that was definitely the most heartbreaking thing I've seen since getting into Delaware." Her head tilted further, like a canary seeing a seed for the first time and deciding whether or not it was worth pecking. "What did your partner do?"

"Partner?" Dean blinked. _Wait?_ What the hell? Was she asking if he was _gay_? _Is she one of Chuck's crazy slash fans?_ Like that girl they'd met earlier today? The one who'd been salivating all over Sammy. "Wait. No. He isn't…" Dean shook his head, at the moment his sexuality wasn't important. _What this bitch is doing here is._

The girl ran right over his sentence like a freight train against a dump truck. "I mean," she said. "It's okay if you _are_, I'm not like, a homophobe or anything." She tapped her cheek. "Though, I'll admit, I do have issues with watching men kiss. Totally weirds me out! I mean, I don't mean for it too." She continued. "It just does."

She shrugged and then her mouth clicked shut. She stared past Dean, her eyes suddenly wide and glassy. It was like she was looking at something behind him and Dean nearly spun to see what had shut her up. _Praise the fucktards._ Or whomever. "What?" He asked. "What the hell is wrong with you?" For that matter, who the fuck was she and why was she sitting on the Impala? And where was Sam? Dean knew they'd just had some sort of intense "break up", but his brother was still close enough to come to his aid.

She blinked. "I'm sorry." The girl's head swung back to look at him and her expression was genuinely apologetic. "I kinda got carried away."

"Kinda?" Dean began. It was hard enough keeping his raw nerves in check, but now he was going to have to figure out whether or not she was just some random crazy. "Who are you? And why the hell are you on my car?"

"Oh." She nearly jumped. Patting the hood, she stared at him suspiciously. "This is your car?"

"Yeah and it's time you got your messy ass off it." _I'm not in the mood for this._ He just wanted to get drunk.

"So you're Dane Winchester?" She tilted her head to the side. "Am I getting that right? Dane? Which is a weird name, Dane." Her tongue flicked out between her lips and wiggled from side to side. Her eyes crossed as she stared down at it. "It sorta rolls off the tongue. Dane." Her tongue disappeared back into her mouth. "Dane." She repeated. "Dane, Dane-o, Dane-er-rooney." A smile lit her features. "That's funny."

"Are you seriously retarded?" Dean asked. He didn't know what to do. _She's gotta be crazy._ Maybe she really was one of Chuck's crazy fans and if she was then it'd be easy to dissuade her. _But what if she's got a message for us?_ The last one had been a bust, a bit of evidence planted by the angels meant to make Dean and Sam walk into their trap. "My name is Dean Winchester." He pointed at himself. "Dean. Now get off my car before I shoot you."

The girl blinked again, looked down, and muttered. "Fat lot of good that'll do."

"Get off the car!" She was going to ruin the paint job.

"Dean?" She asked. "Huh?" The girl was clearly ignoring him. She pursed her lips and tapped her heel against the silver hubcap, crossing her arms over her chest. It was a classic pose belonging in the category of Irritated Female. "I could have sworn they said Dane."

"They?" The word sidetracked him from searching for a rock to throw at her. An instinct niggling at his gut told him not to lay hands on her. He wasn't sure why. She looked normal enough to him. _Normal enough to be crazy._ There was only one "they" that concerned him right now. _Angels._ Was this girl the host of an angel? No, she wasn't behaving in that irritatingly smugly stoic fashion. She didn't exude an air that said she knew better than him. _What would they want with a young girl anyway?_

"Yeah." She said. She stared at him for a long moment and blinked again, confusion making her mouth pop open. "Didn't they tell you?"

"Tell me what?" Dean said. He heaved a great sigh, thinking of Sam and the tequila filled shot glass waiting for him at some local pub. Crazy as this kid was, he had to get rid of her. "Look, this is the worst time."

"It's never a bad time for orders." She said. Her peppy voice piercing the air as her legs swung over the edge of the Impala's ebony hood, her heels clicking together. "Or…" she paused, her mouth pursing again as her brow contorted. "Is it always a bad time for orders." She clapped her hands together. "Doesn't matter, I'm letting my brain run away on me again." She lifted up a finger, one leg crossing over the other. "What's important is why I'm here and, since they didn't tell you," she cast a suspiciously irritated glance up towards the sky. "I'll say it." She clapped a hand on her chest and offered him a slight bow. "Dane Winchester."

"Dean." He cut in, unsure of why he was even talking. _But maybe she'll finally give me some fuckin' answers._

"Right, Dean." She blinked. "I'll remember that. Dean. Dean, Dean-o, Dean-er-reeno!" She laughed, clapping her hands together like a child. "Hey look at that, it works for both!"

_Okay, she's retarded._ Dean didn't like dealing with crazy. Sam was much better at calmly telling a person to shove off. _Like he did with his fan._ "Why are you here?"

"Oh, yeah." She grinned and covered her mouth sheepishly. "About that."

The girl leapt off the Impala's hood and landed lightly on the asphalt a few feet from him. _Okay, so she's insane and spry._ That wasn't usually a good combination.

She pointed at him. "You are the Sword of Michael." She said. "And I," she clapped her hand on her chest again. "Am Gail Olivia Sparks." She pursed her lips. "Much to my great irritation and probably yours, the Hierarchy has sent me to be your bodyguard."

* * *

**A/N:** For the record I've never had a beta and never found one who can keep up with my weird habits. So if there are mistakes here, I'm sorry. While Gail is not my first OC by a very, very long shot, she happens to be one near and dear to my heart, so please be kind to her. It's pretty much taken me a long time to decide if I want to post this story anywhere but my motherboard Paradise Lost. I know it hasn't got Buffy and most SPN OC's suck, but I've worked very hard on this one and she's actually fairly complex. But if I fail, I fail.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed.

If you like it tell me, if you don't also feel free to tell me.

Reviews make my muse happy and makes her write more. Leave some please!


	2. Chapter 2: Bodyguard

**Chapter Two:** **Bodyguard**

_"You're still who you are. You don't change when you become immortal, you just live longer."_ ~ Duncan, Highlander the Series

Dean's jaw unhinged as he stared at the small, strange girl. He couldn't really process what she just told him. It was too hilarious an image. All he could force out between his lips was a single word. "What?"

She crossed her arms over her nearly non-existent chest and raised an irritable eyebrow, the bottom of her blue and white sneaker tapping impatiently against the asphalt. Her small mouth pursed and her eyebrows were creased over her almond shaped eyes. The moonlight was glistening off the top of her head as she watched him, clearly unhappy with his response. "This is what happens when stuff isn't relayed down the grapevine." She sighed. She paused, her eyes going glassy again as she stared past him. "No," she said. Her voice was distant as she spoke. "No, you're right, I'll make him understand."

"What?" Dean repeated. He was pretty damn sure that she wasn't going to make him do anything. Suddenly, he wished that his gun wasn't locked safely away in the Impala's trunk. "Look lady, I don't know what this is about, but…"

The truth was he knew exactly what it was about. She'd mentioned the Michael Sword, which meant she had been sent by the angels and now it was up to Dean Winchester to put as much distance between herself and him as he possibly could. He wasn't going to let Cas's gift go to waste. _I thought the protection he carved into my ribs meant that the Angels couldn't find me!_ So how had this kid? He resisted the urge to panic. _I am not dealing with Zachariah for a third time today!_ None was preferable, but one was already too much. Was today even the same day?

"Okay, stupid." She said. "Let's make it clear. I'm your B-O-D-Y-G-U-A-R-D." The girl named Gail spelled it out, her fingers tracing the letters in the air as she stared at him with wide hazel eyes. "Bodyguard." She repeated. "Yours," she pointed a single thin index finger at him. "Is me." Gail jerked her left thumb back at her chest. "Gail Sparks." She lifted an eyebrow. "I'm the secret service to your president, the Peter to your Jesus, the kick ass Angela Basset to your Lenny, the Agent Simon Donovan to your C. J. Craig. The bodyguard, the protector, I'm doubly here to make sure nothing untoward happens to you." Her arms spread wide, imitating a wild fire. "Understand?" Her head tilted sideways and her foot tapped rapidly against the asphalt. "Is it crystal yet? Do you got it?"

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "I got that one of us is a damn deluded fool."

"And clearly," she sighed loudly. "I'm retardation to your idiocy."

His hands balled into a fist as he took a step towards her. The kid looked so fragile, like a strong breeze would snap her in half. _The angels seriously want this to be my bodyguard?_ Accepting their help was laughable, and even if he wanted to, which he didn't, it always came with strings attached. Either way, if they were going to do that, they'd never send _this_. Some kid barely out of high school. _No, she's got to be one of Chuck's fans._ One who'd overdosed on their adventures and now thought… Well, now wanted to get herself killed. He wasn't going to let her death be yet another strapped on his conscience.

"You can't possibly have been sent by the angels to be my bodyguard." He took a step towards her. What would Sam do? _Ah, hell._ He didn't want to think about Sam. _Where the hell is Sam?_ Why wasn't he facing this? "So why don't you just pack up the way you came." He fished into his pocket, pulling out a few worn and crinkled dollar bills.

"Why not?" She asked. "Is this some comment against my gender?" Gail gasped and covered her heart with two small hands, taking a mocking step backwards. "No, tell me it ain't so! You scared little ole' me's gonna get a bullet to the face? Possessed in the groin? That I'll fall victim to the clown parade?"

"Here," he offered them to her. "Get yourself a bus ticket or a cab ride, or whatever and go home to your parents." Gail stared at his hand like it was trying to bite her. Dean shook the money at her. God, he hated fans. "Come on, I'll get Chuck Shurley to send you some autographed copies of the books or something."

"Books?" She asked. Confusion spread across her open face, but whether or not it was feigned, Dean couldn't tell. "Chuck?" She glanced around the parking lot. "I don't understand."

"Okay, seriously," Dean began. "Are you LARPing?"

He could practically feel his cool points draining away as he said the words. It sent buckets of ice water down his already chilled spine. The truth was he'd only learned about the existence of Live Action Roleplaying a few weeks ago, when a highly amused owner of a comic book shop accused both him and Sam of doing the same. That was how he'd met the Prophet of the Lord, Chuck Shurley and discovered the existence of books who were lumped together under the title: Supernatural. It was a series that chronicled all the adventures he and Sam had together since they'd hit the road chasing after their father in the mid 2000s.

Her eyebrows rose but the confused expression remained fixed on her features. Clearly, she wasn't a very good actress. "Wow." She said. "And you're saying I'm nuts. That's kinda like the pot calling the kettle black." Gail paused. "Actually it is the pot calling the kettle…" She shook her head. "Never mind, I'm not here to teach you pot history." She looked up at him. "Potty mouth."

"Which I'm sure Dean appreciates."

Dean nearly turned around at the sound of Sam's voice. "What happened to you?" He demanded in a low voice. "Why'd you leave me alone with the crazy?"

"You told me you needed space." Sam said. "I was giving it to you." The moody tone of Sam's voice told Dean that his brother had taken his words to heart. "I went back inside to talk to Bobby. He wanted me to make a few calls, so I came out here." He looked up at the girl. He could see the creased irritation around her eyes and the way she was trying to hide it by keeping her face smooth. She was incredibly tiny, he was guessing only around five foot three and was probably easily mistaken for a little kid. "And I saw you."

"And me." Gail said. "I'm Gail Sparks." The words were flying out of her mouth and Sam was fighting to keep a straight face. "The upper brass in the Hierarchy assigned me to look after your brother."

"Hierarchy?" Sam asked. He hadn't heard that terminology before. He glanced at his brother and fought to hide a smile. As painful as Dean's words had been, he couldn't help but be amused by the grimace overriding his brother's expression.

"I guess," she sighed. "I guess you could say the 'Angels'." She attached air quotes to angels, her fingers twitching in the air. "Anyway, they showed up in my bedroom a week ago." She stared at them both for a moment. "Three of them and told me that my current job was canceled." She shrugged, but she couldn't quell her rapidly beating heart as the memory surged through her mind. "Cause you know, Angels and their prime numbers." She snorted. "Guess they wanted me to know it was important or something." She tossed her head. When she saw the confusion blossoming over the men's expressions, she added quickly. "They only come in multiples when they want you to know it's important." She lifted up her fingers. "One is easy to ignore, but three are tough to toss out. Three means they're serious, by the way. After that they come in groups of ten to twenty. At that point, you're fucked." She laughed. "I tell you, it pissed _her_ off to no end. Couple century long deep cover intelligence mission blown all because some human needs his diaper changed. Yeah, she was real pleased." Gail shrugged. "But here I am anyway. Guess it sucks to be you. Eh, Dean Winchester?"

"I think that's the understatement of the year." Sam said. "Which angels appeared to you?"

"Oh come on, Sammy!" Dean snapped. "You're not seriously buying into this garbage? She's just some lost and lonely fan!"

"Is he mentally balanced?" Gail asked. "And are you his brother?"

"Yeah." Sam said.

"Oh," she nodded. "Huh, I thought you two were gay."

"Christ!" Dean yelled. "I'm not gay!"

"Well, you sure act like it."

Dean snorted. He hated being made fun of and he wasn't gonna let this wannabe get the better of him. Dean was going to get her home. _Even if she kicks and screams the whole way._ He wasn't going to play along with her delusions. But even he was forced to admit that they weren't getting anywhere. _It's worse standing next to Sammy._ He really didn't want his brother involved. _I'm not giving him the chance to betray me again._ That was that.

"Who did you see?" Sam asked. "Was it Zachariah?"

"Who?" She blinked. Clearly that name hadn't rung any bells inside her empty skull. "Zachariah? No." Gail shook her head and brushed a few loose strands off her face. "No."

"Michael?" Dean asked. His irritation was creeping into his tone and he ignored the blatantly pointed glare that Sam gave him. "Were you approached by the almighty general himself?"

"Michael?" Gail laughed. "God no!" She glanced at Dean. "I never see Michael unless…" She blinked, her eyes going glassy again, her head tilted to the side like she was listening to something. Someone. It made chills quiver up Dean's spine. "Anyway, it was just a random set of three: Larry, Curly, and Mo."

"The angels named themselves after the Three Stooges?" Dean asked. Incredulity flooded his voice and Gail glanced at him, pity clear in her grayish, hazel eyes.

"Yeah." She said. Sarcasm dripped off her words like venom as she lifted a skeptical eyebrow. "Cause they are the Three Stooges." She shook her head. "No!" Gail snapped. "I named them that, obviously. Do I look like a complete idiot?" She glanced from Dean to Sam. "Don't answer that. Back to the angels, okay? They didn't tell me their names. In fact I wasn't let in on most of the conversation. They just appeared in my room and started speaking some weird language into my head in these deep grating voices. I mean for what little I heard, I got what they were saying, but it was still pretty freaky."

"Grating voices?" Dean asked.

"Weird language?" Sam's question followed on Dean's heels. They glanced at each other. The angels she was describing didn't sound like the angels they knew. "You mean they didn't come to you in human bodies?"

"No." She said. Gail looked at them blankly, her head tilted, her mouth a hardening line. "They came in their usual forms, three pillars of light with crazy pentagon facemasks with sideways painted eyes, and four wings for each. You know, the usual concrete like pressure put down all over your body so they can get your attention and the usual mindfuck. You know, angels, unseeable to mortal…" She trailed off. "Oh. Duh. You two, you're not psychically sensitive are you?" She smacked the side of her head. "God! I knew it! I knew it! She'd explain this so much better than me! Damn." She looked at them. "The Hierarchy hasn't told you _anything_ have they? This Zachariah dude?" She blinked. "You didn't even know the Hierarchy existed did you?"

"Not until recently, no." Dean snapped. "But I don't get what this has to do with…"

"God! I should just plug you into my brain! She'd tell you everything you need to know! But then she'd scar you! Just seeing it all would drive you bonkers! And she'd probably eat you! If she didn't kill you… oh, she'd totally kill you… So, I can't! Ugh! This is so frustrating!"

"Okay," Sam began. "Slow down, who's this she?"

"She?" Gail glanced up at him. "Oh, no. Did I mention her out loud?" When both men nodded in confusion she smacked her forehead. "Jeez! Us! Christ! I'm the biggest loser ever! I'm totally doing this all wrong!"

"I'll drink to that." Dean said.

"Shut up, Dean." Sam growled. He smacked his brother, forgetting for a moment the troubles that lay between them. Sam was finding this girl mildly amusing and though she seemed crazy, he couldn't help but wonder if there was some truth to what she was saying.

"The angels come to you as humans?" She asked. "Seriously?" She watched them nod and could practically feel the belief that she was some fan rolling over her. That was troubling, they had fans. Fans? Fans of what? She had no idea what they did. Well, Gail wished that was true, seriously, she did. After all, anything was better than this had been an order. It was one she couldn't ignore, stupid as it was. "Lucky!" She exclaimed. "You two are so fucking lucky!" It would make her life so much simpler if the angels came to her as people. "You can understand what they're saying!"

"Yeah." Sam said. "I thought you could too?"

"Well, she does." Gail admitted. "I mean, half of me does. I mean…" She let out a long sigh, her shoulders shaking. "It's complicated."

"I bet." Dean agreed. _Because you are totally some psycho._

"Anyway, I'masting time with explanations." She said. Her eyes focused somewhere far off and went smooth again for a second. "And I've been told to tell you that, if you don't accept this right now, I'll beat the living shit out of you." She blinked. "Really?"

"I second that." Dean smirked. "You seriously think you can beat us up?" He motioned towards his brother without looking at him.

Gail groaned. "I feel sorry for your joints." And squeezed her eyes shut. "You two should probably run now anyway."

"Why?" Sam asked.

"Because," Gail sighed. "Mace is coming."

Dean glanced at Sam. "Like the pepper spray?"

"I think she means a medieval weapon." Sam said. "Something akin to a hammer, but why she needs something big and unwieldy to beat us up." He paused. "I doubt she could even lift a mace, they were supposed to be pretty heavy."

Sam didn't get to finish his sentence, because a small fist, far more powerful than it appeared had smashed into his the soft spots of his belly and leaving him breathless. As his body crumpled, a knee had connected with his face. His head snapped back, stunned. The speed surprised him, just like the darkness that engulfed his paralyzed mind. He needed to be fighting back. The kid, Gail Sparks, she had attacked him. It was a cheap shot. He'd get her! Break her!

He heard Dean yell, listened to the sound of his brother flying through the air. The crash of skin on metal as his brother bounced off the hood of the Impala. He straightened up, feeling the cold point of a blade pressed against his throat. Where had that come from? Sam could smell the steel. Blinking, he stared down at Gail Sparks and felt his heart freeze in his chest. He knew, almost immediately, that the eyes he was looking into were not the girl's. _Who the hell is this?_

"It would be faster to kill you." Gail's voice was low and grating. "And your brother." In her eyes were indifferent, apathetic. But there was a small smile twitching at the corners of her mouth, a chilling smile. "And it's certainly more economical, than the time wasted playing this charade."

"Sammy!" Dean's voice roared through the parking lot.

"I have better things to do."

Thoughts raced through Sam's mind. Wouldn't the cameras see them? Where was security? The police? Why weren't they rushing to lock up this sword-carrying maniac? He sucked in a quick breath, feeling the point delicately pricking against his skin. He could feel the blood slipping down the front of his neck. It wouldn't take much pressure for her to stab him through his throat. He opened his mouth and felt his Adam's apple sliding up against it. He didn't quiver.

"Bitch!" Dean's voice was much closer now. "Put the sword down!"

A click snapped through the parking lot, the sound of a gun being cocked. Sam wondered if that would deter this girl. This Gail. _I still don't know if she works for the angels._ But there certainly wasn't anything normal about her. He'd been around unnatural creatures all his life, but Sam had never seen any creature pull a sword out of thin air.

The girl's head rolled around as she glanced back at Dean. A smile touched her lips and she let out a bark of laughter. "You going to shoot me? You gonna shot the kid?" There was no fear as she stared down the barrel. "Or your brother?"

"Put it down you crazy bitch!" Dean snarled. "And step away."

"No." The girl said. The sword remained pressed against Sam's throat and a casual smile was toying with her mouth, it was as if she was daring the younger Winchester to move. To try to escape.

_What the hell is she trying to prove?_ Sam wondered. He didn't know what to do. Dean's hand was shaking as he pointed the gun at Gail's skull, aimed right between her eyes. Was Dean unnerved too? Sam hadn't expected this. His gut still hurt.

"I really would like to kill you." She admitted. She glanced back at Sam, a rueful expression in her eyes. "It'd be better for you."

"But you won't." Sam whispered. "Because Dean's the Sword of Michael."

"Yes." She agreed. It was the same dull tone. There was no emotion in it. No feeling. It was as if killing them would be the same as swatting down a fly and just as irritating. "But what guarantee does that give you?"

"Sammy!"

"So, what will you do? Sammy?" The challenge and derision in her voice was clear as she gazed at him. Sam felt something flare up around her. It was different than what he felt from demons and when the angels used their powers. It was hot. "Do you want to die?"

"Not yet."

Lifting her free hand, she snapped her fingers, just as Sam pushed the meat of his palm into the blade and lunged towards her.

* * *

**A/N:** Trust me, I know it has a confusing beginning, but the answers are coming in the later chapters. I promise. Like I said, this is a project very near and dear to my heart. I'm experimenting with something new and like all experiments, I'll get some stuff right and some wrong. Try and be forgiving.

Remember to review, please!

Feed the muse and the muse feeds you!


	3. Chapter 3: Beat Down

Chapter Three: Beat Down

_Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate, Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure._

All he saw was white. Gail smiled. Dean screamed.

He smelled burning flesh. Felt the power shoot through him, disconnecting him, unhinging him from his body. He was knocked loose and left floating. He could see her, could feel her fingers around his throat. Her hands were incredibly strong for one so small. Sam looked up into yellow eyes, the figments of himself freezing as he stared into the eyes. The pupils were slit down the center like a cat's and they looked hungry.

_Feed me._

The words shivered through Sam and he struggled to look around for the source. The grip on him didn't loosen. He could feel some part of him pounding. He hoped it was his heart.

_Feed me. Two thousand years since you let me taste it. Feed me. Let me taste him. He is insignificant, worthless junk, but more than you have given me. I am hungry._

Sam's legs hit the ground and the world swayed in front of him. It was blurry. He smelled rubber. A shoe was pressed against his chest. A kick knocked the air he'd reclaimed and he fell back, hitting the pavement. He hurt all over. Singed, that was how he'd describe it, feeling singed. He felt the shadow of a body lean over him, kneeling and peering at his face. His eyes opened to stare up at a small oval face and into wide hazel eyes. _Gail._ Her arms were crossed over her knees and she was rocking a little on the balls of her feet. The look she gave him was pitying and he watched her mouth compound into a wary smile.

"Boy." Gail said. Sam didn't understand how she could sound so cheerful. "She must really like you." The girl paused and patted her finger against her lower lip. "That or she really hates you."

"Dean…" Sam groaned.

"Oh, don't be a baby." Gail sighed. "You're both fine." She rocked a bit on her feet and reached out with a cool hand. Pressing it against Sam's forehead, she felt him flinch. "Though leaving you alive was probably more for the sake of my sanity than yours. You irritate her." Her shoulders slouched lower and she tugged a strand of hair off her face. "If it wasn't for that you'd probably be dead. Fortunately, I guess, I'm never far away."

"What…happened?" Sam asked. His ribs hurt, they were lying outside a hospital, why hadn't anyone come running? Why wasn't she getting arrested? A cough buffeted his side and his skin spasmed.

"Shhh." She pressed a finger to his lips. "You had a run in with a god and you survived."

"Wouldn't be the first time." Sam mumbled. He hurt all over. It felt like his entire body was one giant bruise. Why was she sitting here with him? She was supposed to be Dean's bodyguard. _Where is Dean?_

"But I'm guessing you never went up against someone big." Gail replied. "Probably some small pagan god who hasn't been worshipped in five thousand years or something. Not one of the big names. Like Ares or somebody like Odin. Or… never mind those two are the same person." She tapped the side of her head with a closed fist and stuck out her tongue. "Oops, shouldn't have said that. Anyway, it was probably just one of the random pagan ones that haven't been worshipped since Roman times. Right?" His expression was the only answer she needed. "Yeah, that's what I thought." She moved her hand off his skin and tapped her knee, her face scrunching up irritably. "I mean you guys can't stand up to angels? It's easy enough to get into your minds, so, that's a no. But then they have an easy time of it getting into my mind, so go figure."

"What did you do to Dean?" Sam coughed. He wished she'd just leave him alone.

"Nothing." She said. "He's sleeping." She sighed. Gail motioned behind herself dismissively, but her voice sounded genuine. "I took away his gun and stuffed him in your car." She twirled the keys on her ring finger and then dropped them onto Sam's stomach, ignoring his grunt. "Which is more than he deserves 'cause he shot at me a couple times, and for that I'm betting he's gonna have some really bad nightmares for the next few weeks."

"What did you do?" Sam asked. He didn't feel like moving yet, he didn't really want to, everything felt like it was on fire.

"I didn't do anything." Gail said. "I wanted to do it all peaceable like, but your brother didn't believe me and she got impatient. It happens sometimes. You'd think she would, but some of my bad habits rub off on her."

"Fine." Sam snapped. "What did she do?"

Gail smiled. "I'm not really sure." The girl shrugged. "Neither of you are seriously injured, so it's probably not important."

"Not important?" Sam demanded. "Not important? Dean and I haven't had our asses handed to us that quickly since the Angels!" Memory of trying to breathe without lungs stopped him for a moment, turning his face into a dark, shrouded mask. Yes, this had felt a lot like going up against an angel. "You're not an angel are you?"

"What?" She asked. Her laughter cut through the wet air as she gripped her stomach and her entire body began to shake. "Me?" Her giggles slipped through her lips as she twitched, a grin splitting her face from ear to ear. "Are you serious?"

Sam wasn't really sure what was so funny. _She's got the same kind of powers as the angels, just not the personality._ No, from the little he'd seen so far it looked like she was suffering from a definite split. _Maybe the angel is damaged and unable to fully exert itself._ That made some kind of sense, but not why Gail Olivia Sparks had suddenly cascaded into giggles.

"What?" He asked.

"You…" She wheezed between chuckles. "You're definitely some new kind of idiot." She patted his head and Sam swatted away her hand, glaring at her. It didn't seem to bother her. Gail glanced down at him with a wane smile on her face. "Unless you meant that crack as some kind of pick up line, which I didn't think you did…" She met his gaze and snorted. "Yeah, didn't think so. Was worth a shot though."

"Would you get to the point?"

"I am definitely, in no uncertain terms, completely and utterly, and in all seriousness, not an angel." She said smacking her chest with her fist. "Do you feel better?"

"No!" Sam coughed.

"Okay," Dean's voice cut through the air. He sounded like he was waking up from a bad hangover. Gail turned to watch him and Sam forced himself to sit up, his gaze swinging across the parking lot, looking for his brother. "Who made me drink all the tequila?"

"Anyway," Gail sighed. "Why don't we go see your friend? Bubba, right?"

"Bobby." Sam growled.

"Whatever."

***

Sam wasn't quite sure how it happened, but the next thing he knew, he, Dean, and this strange young woman were headed inside the hospital. Dean walked like he had business, but he could barely hide his limp. Somehow, the girl had caught him in the right knee and strained his tendons. Sam did not remember this happening. He tried to pretend that everything was normal, but with bearing the weight of starting the Apocalypse and now having been beat down by a five foot, dark haired waif, he wasn't in the best spirits.

Sam still wasn't convinced that Gail had actually been sent to help them or guard his brother. _Guard Dean against what, exactly?_ The forces of Hell? Dean could do a pretty good job taking care of himself. _He doesn't need some immensely overpowered sidekick._ It would probably take all the fun out of life. _Not that there's much fun to be had lately._

Staring into Bobby's room and at the old man in the wheel chair gazing dully out into the rain, Sam felt his heart squeeze. His old friend and mentor had just become one of the many casualties of this conflict. It was one that hurt more than any other.

"That him?" Gail's voice shook Sam out of his thoughts.

He glanced across the doorway to the young woman. The short girl was leaning against the taupe doorframe, her eyes on the man in the room. Sam found it impossible to decipher her expression, he didn't know whether she felt sorry for Bobby, wasn't concerned, that seeing a broken man in a wheel chair didn't affect her, or maybe it did. Her mouth was tucked in a small smile but her brow was creased in thought. He wondered if she was conferring with her inner self.

_Why did we bring this bucketload of crazy along?_ The short answer: she'd left them no choice. _Take me with your or I kill you. That pretty much sums it up._ Sam didn't find that negotiation tactic very endearing. _Not that I find anything about her endearing._

"Yeah." Sam replied. His voice was hoarse as he spoke and he couldn't help blaming himself for Bobby's condition. _If I hadn't listened, if I hadn't let him drive me off._ Bobby might never have been injured. _It's my fault, my guilt got him in this situation._ This whole situation was his fault. _Like Dean reminds me every time I turn around._ Sam couldn't fight the bitterness of that thought. He loved his brother, loved him more than anything. _But I just wish he could forgive._

"Hey," Gail said. She glanced up at him with eyes wider and rounder than saucers, it was hard to get past that innocent expression and remember that a killer lay beneath it. "Chill out on the pity parade."

"You don't get it." Sam shook his head. "You probably have no idea what's going on."

"That's pretty much true." Gail shrugged. "I only know what the records say and that's usually only when I can decipher them. Or she does." She blinked for a moment. "Doesn't help that they're all written in an archaic dialect and in cuneiform. But you don't need to know any of that, and I shouldn't have told you, and anyway that's not the point," she swallowed and once again looked uncomfortable.

"Are you trying to comfort me?" Sam asked. He couldn't keep the disbelief out of his voice as he stared at her, his jaw hanging unhinged.

"Not really, no." She shook her head. "All I know is that sources say you jump started this timeline's apocalypse." She crossed her arms over her chest and shrugged again. "Big whoop."

"And you don't find that at all impressive?" Dean asked from behind them. Sam turned to see his brother standing there, MRI scans in hand. He was staring at Gail with hardened hazel eyes and as usual was ignoring Sam.

"Should I?" She asked. Her voice was bland and the tone indicated complete indifference as she looked at him.

"I guess so, yeah," Dean sputtered for a minute. That wasn't the answer he'd been expecting. "You don't?"

"No." Gail's eyes returned to the inner room, another mask falling over her features and hiding her expressions.

"Well, ain't that peachy keen." Dean muttered. Deciding to ignore Gail and whatever she was carrying around inside her, the thought made Dean's skin crawl, he turned his attention back to Bobby. "We gotta find some way to cheer him up." That comment had been meant for Sam. Dean doubted very much that Gail cared two lumps about Bobby and his problems. _Or the fact that the Docs say he'll never walk again._ "Maybe I'll give him a back rub."

"With all the steamy homoeroticism it implies." Gail responded as Sam stared at his brother with disbelieving eyes, his eyebrow cocked slightly in irritation.

"Shut it." Dean growled at her. "I wasn't talking to you. You're only here because you beat Sammy into the ground and did something weird to our minds, that doesn't make you part of the gang." He sighed. "Anyway, aren't bodyguards supposed to be seen and not heard." He gave her another once over. "Not that you're gonna give anybody the heebeegeebees."

"I thought I was here because the angels believe you need a babysitter." Gail replied, her head tilted to the side and her eyes were crinkled in a grin. She had the upper hand and she knew it. "You wanna cry now or are you gonna save it for when I change your diaper? Wah, wah?"

"I'm not lettin' you…"

"Dean." Sam began in a low voice. "Look, we might have to wrap our heads around the idea that Bobby might not just bounce back this time."

"Or maybe he will." Gail added with another shrug. "You never know."

Both men glared at her for a moment. "You got any ideas all powerful sunshine?" Dean asked. "Do you got some kind of healing ability packed into your little bag of tricks?"

Again, she shrugged. "Dunno." She said. Her voice cool and Sam could practically feel the stoniness crawling back into her expression. All her voice needed to do was drop a few octaves and then…

_Bad shit._

"Leave it alone, Dean." Sam said. He nodded towards his brother's hands. "What's in the folder?"

"I had radiology perform an MRI while they were workin' on Bobby." Dean said in a low voice. He cast a suspicious glance at Gail as she looked at the folder he was holding in his hands. Pulling out the X-ray, he handed it to his brother. "Got some glamour shots." Sam held up the flimsy film up into the light. "Let's just say the, uh, doctor's are baffled."

"I'll bet." Gail chuckled.

"Holy crap!" Sam exclaimed. His eyes sliding across the complex set of markings that had been inlaid into Dean's ribcage, it was one of the most intricate spell workings that Sam had ever seen. Not that he had seen many.

"Yeah, well, Cas carved you one too."

"Can I see that?" Gail asked, without waiting for a reply she pulled it out of Sam's hands and held it up in the light. A small frown tickled her expression as her eyes scanned the image.

"Excuse me?" Dean asked. He was glaring at her, his arms crossed over his chest. "Pushy much?"

"Well," she shrugged. "Do you want a professional opinion or do you just want to gape at the pretty artwork shielding your lungs?"

Dean opened his mouth to retort and then glanced at his brother. He watched Sam shake his head. Dean's jaw clicked shut irritably and he glared at her. _I really don't like you._

"That's okay." She replied. Her finger had begun tracing the line of Dean's spine and her head tilted as she got a better look at the engravings on his ribcage. "She doesn't like you either."

"Great." Dean muttered. "Now the little schizophrenic psychopath is reading my mind."

"Not really, no." She said. "Your face is just really obvious." Dean wondered if she was lying. Silently, as Sam's cell phone started to ring, she handed it back to him.

"Find what you were looking for?" Dean asked. He was only half joking as he watched Sam put the phone to his ear.

"It's passable craftsmanship." She replied with yet another shrug. "And the spell will work so long as you don't break a rib. Mess that up and it'll be duck hunting season all over again." She reached up and gave him a condescending pat on the cheek. "And I'm guessing you don't want that, right?"

"Kid, there's no way you're everything you say you are." Dean growled. Taking a step back, he turned his attention back to his brother. Looking Gail in the eyes made him nervous.

"I don't really recall saying I was anything yet." Gail sighed. Her head tilting back to press against the wall. "Well, except your bodyguard and that was necessary information to divulge." She tapped her cheek and closed her eyes. "You wouldn't have gotten along without it, I think, and it would have made our whole conversation totally pointless on top of having her beat the living daylights out of the two of you." She smirked. "Though I think that part was mostly for fun."

"Fun, huh?" He asked.

"Fear is a pretty good motivator."

"Hello?" Sam asked into the phone. "Castiel?" He frowned. He'd never expected an angel of the Lord to contact him by cell.

"Speak of the devil." Dean muttered. His attention focused completely on his brother again and the strange girl forgotten.

"Great." Gail sighed.

"Uh," Sam swallowed, surprised by Castiel's question. "Saint Martin's hospital, why? What are you—" He was cut off as Castiel hung up on the opposite end of the line. "Cas?" He asked. "Cas?" Clicking his phone shut, he put it down and shrugged.

"Great." Gail repeated.

"I take it you two aren't great friends?" Dean asked. He glanced at her, a mild smirk teasing his mouth. He liked that Castiel seemed to irritate this girl. _God knows I'm having a hard enough time trying to._

She looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. "Me and Castiel?" She asked. "Can't say I've ever met him."

"Huh." Was all Dean could find to respond.

* * *

**A/N:** This chapter was shorter than the others. It does take me a little time to get the story flowing and writing this story can be challenging. When dealing with such powerful, deranged, and complicated characters, it's sometimes hard to know exactly what to do with them. The connection between Gail and Mace will be explained very soon, in the next chapter actually. They are complicated. For the record, it's very hard writing immortals. They don't think like we do.

Anyway, please be kind, rewind, and review. A review always brightens up my day.

Feed the muse!


	4. Chapter 4: Eternals vs Angels

Chapter Four: Eternals versus Angels

_Sometimes, pain is all that lets you know you're alive._

-Lews Therin Telamon

Not more than a few seconds later, Castiel strode down the busy corridor to meet them at Bobby's hospital room. His face conveying the urgency of his mission, or it did, until he stopped to nod greetings to both of the Winchesters and turn to express greetings to their young companion. He met the eyes of Gail Olivia Sparks and froze, his tongue pressed against the ceiling of his mouth as his eyes widened.

"Cell phone, Cas?" Dean asked. His voice was barely higher than a hiss and he didn't notice the way that Castiel was staring at Gail. "Really?"

"What is she doing here?" Castiel asked. Ignoring Dean's question, his arms hung limply at his sides as his head cocked his head slightly.

"I don't know." Dean snapped. "She just showed up thirty minutes ago saying that the angels or the Hierarchy or whatever had assigned her to be my new bodyguard. Whatever the hell that means." He sighed but it came out more of a growl as he crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the angel. "You didn't answer my question."

"That is impossible." Castiel said. His voice was hard and flat as he stared at Gail, the pallor of his skin remained the same but there was something off about his eyes.

"The spell he carved on your insides hides you from all angels, dumb ass." Gail said. Her gaze was holding the angel's, firm and unblinking, but her shoulders twitched, almost as if she was laughing. "That includes him." She shrugged yet again and tilted her head to the side, her gaze never leaving that of Castiel's. "And it's not like they've never done this before."

"Why's it impossible?" Sam asked. He glanced from one face to the other, the tension between them making him shiver. Each gaze held so much animosity that it made him want to back up. _Get out of the way before they both implode._

"Because she is supposed to be dead." Castiel replied.

"I got better."

"I am suddenly aware of that." Castiel bit out the words, his fingers twitching at his sides. His flat monotone voice held no hint of emotion but his brow creased slightly. "Clearly some information has been left out of your file."

"You're not high enough on the pay scale to get that kind of classified intel." Gail said with a toss of her head.

There was a slight challenge in her voice, but the undertone dripped with an intense irritation. Sam would almost have classified it as anger and maybe even hatred. One thing was suddenly clear to him. _Whatever she is, she's not friends with the angels._ But did that really mean she was on their side.

"Wait!" Dean held up his hands. This conversation was quickly heading in a direction that left him feeling confused, like the two were talking over his head. He didn't like them making him feel like a child. "She died?"

"I'm right here, numb nuts." Gail sighed.

"600 hundred years ago on a covert intelligence gathering mission, agent codenamed: Mace, second in command of the Hierarchy's Eternal Division, vanished." Castiel said. "The general impression was that he was discovered in his mission and executed. The report filed by the Eternal Commander Drake said that evidence suggested Mace's shard had been exploded by competing operatives leading to his complete annihilation." Castiel shook his head. "I was at Pinnacle when it was handed in. You were listed as going rogue and a bounty was posted for you, but no one truly believed you had survived."

"Like I said." Gail repeated. "I got better."

"Why didn't you come in?" Castiel demanded.

"Because that wasn't the mission." Gail replied. Her arms crossed over her chest and her features sagged, she suddenly looked very old and empty, like she was carrying a great weight on her shoulders. She gazed at Castiel, her expression irritated and then her entire face shifted.

"Angel." A deep gravelly voice spoke out of her throat. "It is not wise to ask more questions than there are answers." A cruel smile found it's way onto her mouth and Sam felt a chill run up his spine. He doubted very much that Gail and this Mace were the same person. "You are no longer part of the Hierarchy. You have," the voice of Mace chuckled. It was deep and throaty. "A significant bounty on you." Gail's head shook, but the smile remained etched on her mouth like stone.

"Yours is greater." Castiel growled.

"My loss was deemed more damaging." Gail's shoulders shrugged. "There are a thousand of you and only one of me." Again, Gail's chest rippled in a chuckle as her arms crossed over her chest. But, both Dean and Sam noticed, even the movements were different. There was a surety about them now, a decisiveness. "She finds you amusing, Castiel." Mace added in that same confident fashion. "She wants to know how you overcame your programming."

"Tell your host I have no interest in discussing it with her."

"Programming?" Dean mouthed the question at Sam, but his brother just shook his head. He was at a loss over what these two were talking about, the subject now having gone way over both their heads.

Mace shrugged, shoulders undulating in a smooth motion, apparently, this being also deemed the subject unimportant. "You wanted to speak to me?"

"Yes." Castiel said. "Why are you here? Dean Winchester is too small a job for you. He could not have been your classified mission."

"That is true." Mace laughed. "They are both beneath me. But the Hierarchy deemed Dean Winchester's safety important enough to blow my cover and end a six hundred year investigation." Again those slim shoulders twitched and Mace straightened up, her movements cat-like and the smile never leaving her lips. "But it is Apocalypse Now and the world is ending in flames and fire. If rumors are to be believed then Lucifer himself is once again walking the earth." Mace snorted and chuckled. "Apparently the fucker will not stay dead. But to completely answer your question Castiel, I'm taking this opportunity to have a little fun." Her eyes swung to examine Dean again, the predatory smile growing ever wider. "I have not stretched my wings for some time and I admit I've been chafing with nothing to kill."

"This is not the field of battle I would have thought to find you on." Castiel replied. He kept his voice level, even though inside he could feel Jimmy squirming in terror. Castiel was glad for the moment that both boys were for the most part psychically deafened and could not see what he did. _I doubt they would understand why they should fear._ Of the fourteen Eternals, Mace was one of the deadliest and the one best known for combat.

"You thought I would join the other side?" Mace asked. Her low gravelly voice grating in the ears of others and she snorted. "I, who has never lead the Hierarchies forces into battle? Or did you expect me to put myself within Lucifer's grasp?"

"Which again begs the question," Castiel growled. "Why are you here?"

"Working." Mace chuckled. "As she has said before. I'm fucking working."

"I will not allow you to harm these two." Castiel said. He forced the words through his teeth and listened as the other being laughed. Castiel was not accustomed to being afraid, but he knew the Eternal Mace's reputation only too well.

"And if I decided to, how would you stop me?"

The question hung in the air between them and Castiel did all he could to keep from hissing. He knew now that Mace knew and that Mace did not care that he did. The information had been passed freely from one to the other with no currency exchange and only served to emphasize for Castiel how far he had fallen.

"Okay, anyone want to step in and make sense of this brooha?" Dean asked. He glanced from Mace to Castiel. "And I suppose you're the one who kicked our collective asses in the parking lot."

"If you have to ask, then you are dumber than I imagined."

Dean felt himself twitch. "Just checking." He said, spitting the words out as he glared at Mace. "Cas?"

"Sam, Dean," Castiel sighed. "I did not believe you'd ever come across one…"

"Really?" Mace's voice was a gravelly chuckle. "It is the end of the world, Angel cake." Mace said. "Are you that confused about where Heaven and Hell have left their foot soldiers?"

"I was given no reason to believe that they would ever be involved with the Ancients, much less one of you."

"And if they ever encountered the Horsemen what then?" Mace chuckled. "You did not believe they would ever meet one of us? When so many of us have been gathered here? Pestilence and Death are both in this timeline. They are merely awaiting a signal. I have few doubts about War's presence, but that little fuckhead Roon has always been good at hiding from me." Mace crossed her arms over her chest and lifted a condescending eyebrow. "The majority of humans in this timeline are combatants not civilians, and that means there will be no evacuation, no Rapture for the Christian sheep. I may be a fucking old school boogey man, myth and mystery to greater civilization. Even a god to more than a few ancient civilizations." She twisted her head so that her smile widened. "And I know what it looks like when the world ends and now that the war has reached here, well, that the real battle's about to begin." Fire sparked in those cool eyes as their irises lightened to a strange yellow color. "Chaos."

"This is not their war." Castiel replied. He jabbed his index finger at her, his face a mask of stone. "Maybe if Dean had said yes to Michael it would be his, but until he does you have no business with them."

"Orders are orders."

"And you being here will only serve to lead Zachariah straight to—"

"Oh?" Gail's entire body shifted suddenly as her face brightened and a wide smile broke out of the cool smirk. Both Sam and Dean blinked in surprise. Gail was back. "You don't have to worry about that."

"We don't?" Dean asked. He hated that he sounded cautious. He didn't trust either part of this girl's personality, but he did find the way that she put Cas on edge amusing. _Does she do that to every angel?_

"No!" Gail waved her hand, her nose scrunching as if she'd just smelled something horrible. "I already got rid of the spyware they implanted in your brains and got the ones spying on me high."

"Spyware?" Sam asked.

"High?" Was Dean's question.

"I fed Larry, Curly, and Moe a big lunch of shard energy. They're gonna be tied up with the brass for awhile explaining why they've been feeding off shards and probably won't be let out of Pinnacle again for at least another hundred years." She grinned. "Detox." Gail glanced at Sam. "And on the second question, yes, the angels that visited you implanted listening devices in your brains and blockers that let them keep tabs on where you are. I got rid of them while you were sleeping in the parking lot. You can thank me later."

"Oh." Sam responded. He felt a little faint.

"Say that again." Dean said. "This time in English so we can understand."

"You lot gonna yammer out there in the hall all day?" Bobby growled from behind them. "Or are you gonna get your asses in here and fix me?"

"Sorry, Bobby." Dean said.

"Sorry." Sam echoed.

Castiel stood stock still in the hallway, gazing at Bobby. His expression was sad.

"Get healing!" Bobby growled. "Now!"

"I can't." Castiel sighed.

Bobby's eyes glared at the angel, more hateful than they'd ever been before. He wheeled his chair around to face the other man, his face a mask of storm clouds and thunderbolts. "Say again?"

"I've been cut off from Heaven, much of Heaven's power, certain things I can do and certain things I can't."

"You tellin' me you lost your mojo just in time to get me stuck in this trap the rest of my life?" Bobby snarled. He wheeled forward, the anger flowing off of him palpable in the air. Tension skyrocketed within the room as the faces of both Sam and Dean fell. Gail crossed her arms over her chest and examined Bobby with her eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"Shove it up your ass." Bobby growled. He turned back to face the window, staring out at the rain with pained eyes.

"He can't." Gail said. Her voice breaking the tense silence as she stepped past the boys and into the room, her entire body twitching and her gaze never leaving the back of Bobby's head. She wet her lips nervously. "But I might be able to." She swallowed. "I mean, I've forgotten a lot but compared to soul surgery healing your body shouldn't be too difficult."

"You." Castiel's eyes swung to her and he turned around in surprise. It was like he was seeing her for the first time. "You are not a normal host. Who are you?"

"I'm nobody." Gail replied, her voice very flat. There was a dark edge to it that threatened him as she turned her eyes away from him. "Mace's powers…"

"Are not what you plan on using." Castiel replied. "I ask again, who are you?"

Gail turned away from Castiel, indicating that the topic of conversation was closed and focused her gaze on Bobby Singer. "Do you want to walk again?"

"What's going on?" Sam asked Dean.

"Hell if I know." Dean growled. "I haven't understood a single thing since the two of 'em started talkin'."

"You can fix me?" Bobby asked. His voice was incredibly bitter as he looked at her. "What? You another one of them angels?"

"I'm something different."

"A faith healer then?"

"No." She shook her head. "Nothing like that. All I need is a pen. So, do you want my help or not?"

"Wait a minute!" Dean snarled. "We don't even know what she's gonna do? Bobby you can't trust her!"

"I ain't seein' any other options, kid." Bobby said.

Gail sent Castiel a triumphant look and then turned back to the old man. "Then one of you help him out of that chair and the other find me a marker. Permanent would probably be best."

"What are you plannin' on doin'?" Bobby asked as Sam moved forward to help the old man out of the chair and lay him down on the table.

"I'm guessing that she is a hierophant," Castiel said. He was glaring at Gail. "Of some kind, which is why you should be careful."

"A little high magic never hurt anyone." Gail replied. She lifted her right hand up and put her left on her chest. "I solemnly swear that I will not turn him into a zombie, nor will I infect him with any diseases. I'll return him to being healthy and whole, like he was never stabbed in the first place."

"I have seen the ill effects of necromancy."

"Necromancy?" Dean exploded as he walked back into the room. "Did you say necromancy?"

Gail swiped the pen from his frozen fingers. "Being a hierophant and a necromancer are two different things."

"And you are both." Castiel accused.

"Not so much anymore, no." Gail replied. "And I haven't been for a while now." She tapped her forehead with the butt of the pen and unscrewed the cap. "Not really. Anyway, that's a long boring story that no one wants to listen to. I'd much rather get to work and fix things like spines." She crossed the room quickly and leaned over Bobby, her eyes dark as she looked away from all three men. Lifting the black ink, she sighed. "This would probably work better if I just cut the incantation into your flesh, but given the way things are… I doubt you want long lasting scars or enchantments."

"Just do whatever it is you're gonna do." Bobby growled out of the pillow.

"Okay then," Gail said. "Just warning you though this is probably gonna hurt… a lot."

* * *

**A/N:** Review okay, I'm not proud to admit it but I'm a review whore! Lol. I guess that leaves me saying thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5: Celestial Geometry

Chapter Five: Celestial Geometry

Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And when you look into an abyss, the abyss also looks into you.

-Friedrich Nietzsche

_Thus Spake Zarathustra_

"I cannot believe we're letting her do this." Dean grumbled under his breath.

He was standing outside the door of Bobby's hospital room with both his brother and the Angel Castiel, watching the gurneys trundle by. Gail Olivia Sparks had given him the death glare when he'd made fun of her alphabet soup symbols. The ones' she'd been writing with a black ink sharpie down Bobby's back, right along his spinal cord.

In Dean's defense it had looked weird and what was weirder was the name she'd given it…

"You were the one who made that crack about Celestial Geometry." Sam responded. His arms were crossed pensively over his chest as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. A couple of times since they'd been kicked out, he'd been tempted to push the door open, but he hadn't wanted to distract Gail. She'd been irritated enough by laughter.

"Hey now," Dean lifted his hands, another smirk blossoming across his face. "You were the one who laughed."

"Celestial Geometry is a very intense and delicate form of magic." Castiel said. His face was a blank slate as he looked at them, but the corners of his eyes twitched a little in irritation.

Both boys looked at each other and Dean snorted. "Yeah, writing equations on Bobby's back. That sounds like it'll work."

"It requires a great deal of concentration, Dean." Castiel replied. "I am not surprised she expelled you from the room." He took a deep breath. That was one of the inconvenient things about wearing a mortal shape, breathing. He'd never needed to do that before. Now it was always necessary. "A single misstep in the crafting of those symbols could have drastic consequences."

That lent a sobering silence to the group as Dean and Sam glanced at one another again. They weren't particularly happy with this whole arrangement. Dean didn't trust Gail and with good reason, he knew nothing about her. _I can't believe Bobby agreed to letting her work her mojo on him._ Dean had a deep suspicion of everything magical. _Is that surprising? I mean, everything I've ever run into has been, well, evil._ He frowned. _Which means she's evil too._ He'd have to find someway to kill her before she hurt the people he loved.

_An how you gonna do that short stack?_ A snide voice hissed in the back of his head. _She wiped the floor with you last time. Well, her alter ego did anyway. And if you lay a hand on her you know that thing is gonna come spittin' out ready for blood._

_There's always, Cas._ He wouldn't let anything happen to him.

_She ain't scared of Cas, stupid._

_The other angels then, if I die Zach'll just bring me back._

_Zach can't find you and anyway, what's to say she won't just kill you?_

_Not if the angels kill her first._ That was a good plan, a sound plan. But there was just one hiccup.

_That means lettin' the angels find you. Do you really want that?_

He didn't. Dean glanced at Castiel and opened his mouth.

"What is Celestial Geometry?" Sam asked. "I've never heard of it before."

"However you phrase that it sounds retarded." Dean chuckled.

"It's a written language, an ancient form of hieroglyphs, each one has incredible power. The form of magic is sometimes referred to as Celestial Geometry for the way it positions the symbols on the body to form meaning and the incantation. The symbols reflecting basic star patterns." Castiel shook his head. "It is very powerful and requires many years of study in sorcery. I was not aware Mace possessed such a skill." Castiel looked down the hall and then back at the closed door to Bobby's room. "Perhaps he doesn't."

"She." Sam said. "Gail has always referred to her other half as a she."

"He or she it does not matter." Castiel said. "Not to their kind."

"What?" Dean asked.

"They are immortals, Dean." Castiel said. His voice was dull but Dean thought he could hear something held back behind it. Irritation maybe, but it was more than that. Anger? "But a very different kind than my brethren."

"Then what are they?" Sam asked.

"Undocumented." Castiel replied. "You will not find them in any sort of lore or mythology." A small smile tugged the corners of his mouth. "Well you might, but not as themselves, not as what they are. Sometimes they are great heroes and occasionally great villains. Sometimes they appear as natural disasters, other times they are remembered as pagan gods."

"But what are they?" Sam repeated.

Castiel glanced at Sam for a long moment, a small frown creasing his forehead. Telling them this was hard, harder than he'd thought it would be. Though Castiel had sided with the brothers against the angels, he still found it difficult to divulge Heaven's secrets, secrets that had been kept to protect the greater universe. He stared at the boys for few seconds, knowing that he did not have all the answers to their questions. He only knew the story he had been told.

"Telling you that girl's story will mean that I have broken one of Heaven's highest commandments, one of God's most secret laws. There is a truth to this universe that only they and we know." Castiel shook his head. "And even if I did say, you would not believe me."

"Why not, Cas?" Dean demanded. "I'm getting a little tired of all the secrets and the runaround! The Christians and the Jews and the Muslims all know about you angels, why don't they know about…" He trailed off and jabbed his finger back towards the hospital door. "_Her_?"

Castiel's eyes snapped to Dean. He paused as anger flowed through him. How dare this boy ask for such a thing, how dare he! "After all that I have given you," he said. "Does it mean so little that you demand God's greatest secret?"

"You don't have to tell them, angel." Gail's voice came from behind them. She was leaning against the doorframe, her arms crossed over her chest. She tipped her head to the side, a small smile on her lips. "I can discuss it with them later. It might help coming from someone who, kinda sorta, vaguely remembers the event as opposed to the person who just knows the legend." She glanced at the boys for a moment. Dean was staring at her with a very disgruntled, angry look on his face. Clearly, he didn't like her interrupting his Castiel time. "What?" She asked. "You shocked that the angels don't know everything? That they're daddy or whatever god they worship decided to keep it a secret from them?" Gail shrugged and tucked a loose strand of brown hair back behind the curve of her small ear. "Cause I'm really not." She cast Castiel another long look. "He's oddly schizophrenic like that."

"How dare you speak so of our Lord and Father!" Castiel hissed.

Sam opened his mouth and then paused, realizing in that moment that she'd said _"they worship"_ not "we worship". _Then who does she? Does she even believe in god?_ He supposed that was a question that could be asked later, at the moment he was having a hard enough time dealing with the mystery of what she was, or what she claimed to be. _Castiel recognized her, which means she isn't lying._ And he'd seen two different sides of her, two radically different sides. _Which might just be a symptom of a split personality disorder._ His brother however, wasn't quite so aware.

"Oh, like you're one to talk about being schizophrenic!" Dean snorted.

"I suppose it takes one to know one." Gail said with another casual shrug. "Crazy is as crazy does they say." Her lips yanked into a wide smirk. "Though with you I wonder if it's just a rampant case of idiocy. I could break that hard head, maybe it'd help you think more clearly."

"Go ahead and try!" Dean growled.

"I thought I already succeeded." She wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Clearly it didn't take."

"Enough!" Sam yelled. He rounded on his brother. "Dean, this isn't helping us get any closer to the truth."

"Go ahead, Sammy." Dean snapped. "Side with the monsterous hellspawn over your own family, it's what you always do!"

"Wow," Gail sighed. "He really is dumber than he looks." She tapped her cheek with a slow finger. "Maybe it's a blonde thing or a hazel eye thing, or just a human thing. It could be a human thing. Maybe it's a Winchester thing." She gave Dean another once over. "Is your stupidity conferred genetically? Or did your father drop you on your head as a child? I wouldn't be surprised if he did."

"Don't you dare talk about my family!" Dean roared rounding on Gail. "Don't you dare!"

"Silence!" Castiel's voice brought Dean back to his senses and he glared at the angel for a long moment. "Your brother is right, Dean." He said. "This is not the place or the time."

Finally, Dean nodded and turned back to Gail.

"So, what's the story then?" Dean demanded. "What makes you so special? And what the hell did you do to Bobby? You better not have screwed him up with your freakin' mojo!"

"She didn't screw me up any worse, Dean." Bobby's disgruntled voice growled from within the room. He wheeled forward, wincing in his chair as the entire group turned to face him. "I'm the same as before." He glared at Gail for a long moment. "She just ain't the miracle worker she promised she was."

"So you can't walk?" Dean asked. He stared down at Bobby, once again feeling his hopes dashed to the floor. Bobby was yet another reminder of his failure to protect the old man. Bobby had taken the knife for Dean, he'd fought through the possession and it had gotten him gravely wounded, stuck in that wheelchair. Having him healed would have taken away some of the guilt, not all of it but some. He glanced at Gail and watched her shake her brunette head with a loud sigh. _I guess she's not any better than the angels._ They'd promised to heal Bobby if Dean accepted Michael. Selfishly, he had refused. _If it wasn't for me, Bobby would be walking._

"Does it look like I can, genius?" Bobby asked. "What the hell do you think I'm still doing in this damn chair?"

"I already told you that I've lost a lot. Mostly I'm working off of instinct not knowledge." Gail replied. "Adding to that I'm not completely awake, that she's not, and there are restrictions on this reality, on the things I can and can't do." She fixed Bobby with strangely solemn eyes, the first Sam had seen from her. It was an oddly genuine expression. "In the face of all that, you got a pretty damn good deal old man. The spell has sunken inside you and its already taking effect. You should be able to tell that by the pain you feel." Slowly, Bobby nodded but the anger in his eyes didn't go away. "But like I said, it's going to take time."

"So I'm just supposed to sit in this damn chair while the Apocalypse is ragin' outside?" Bobby growled.

"Magic is magic." Gail shrugged. "It works as it wills. With the way I am, who I'm working with, and what's going down, you should be glad it happened at all." She lifted her hand and spread two fingers, index and middle. "Two years, that's what it's going to take. Two years to heal your spine and de-age you by five. The de-aging might seem unnecessary I suppose, but it was the only spell I could remember off hand."

Bobby stared at her for a few more long moments, evaluating her. Gail met his stare with the same mild expression. She didn't seem all that apologetic; in fact the slight smile that tugged the corners of her mouth indicated that she was proud of what she'd done. Standing in front of him, Bobby noted that she appeared to be a normal twenty year old, maybe one a little run down around the edges, ragged in appearance, like she'd been traveling for a long time. Her clothes were stained, her jeans frayed at the bottom, her hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. Dark circles were shadowed beneath her eyelids, a sign of someone who had not slept well in a very long time. But from what he'd seen earlier something much darker lurked beneath that surface, something that was old and dangerous. _And that magic she worked._ He'd never seen it's ilk before. _Not from any witch, shaman, or hoodoo priest I ever saw._ She was dangerous. _Well, as if that ain't obvious._ The other side of her personality had threatened a damn angel. _Kid ain't lacking for courage._ If a kid was what she was. Bobby doubted that part too.

"Fair enough."

"Bobby!" Dean snapped. "You can't seriously be trusting what she says! She's some kind of witch!"

"Witch being code word for someone who needs to be taken out behind the woodshed and shot?" Gail asked, with a quirk of an eyebrow. "My, my, aren't you blunt." She paused. "Bold too, threatening the person who just helped your friend. Stupid too, but that's already been well established. I'll remember be remembering this the next time you ask for help."

"I doubt I'll ever be asking for your help, lady!"

"Really?" Gail shrugged again. "I suppose just have to wait and see on that count, won't we?" She smiled at Castiel for another moment and tossed her head. "Anyway, I thought you wanted to hear a special story? The super secret, no mortals allowed, cut your throat, burn your eyes out if we tell you, sworn into eternal secrecy story of how she came to be." She paused again. "Er, came to be what she is, I mean. Sharded, if you will. That's the proper term for it anyway. Sharded. Well, Eternal is another good one. That would be the proper title."

"Spit it out." Dean snapped.

"Dean." Sam's voice held another warning, one that his brother was refusing to heed.

"Such a gentleman." Gail rolled her eyes. "So patient, so full of warmth and kindness. No wonder the angels picked you out of all the billions to save the world." She tilted her head again and lifted her chin with a smirk. "Guess Buffy wasn't available, huh? Ok, I'm gonna give you the Cliff's Notes version explanation." She paused again and glanced at Dean, smiling wryly. "Scratch that, you're not smart enough for Cliff's Notes. Dr. Suess level is better. Hmm," she tapped her chin. "I wonder if I could even do it in iambic pentameter. Nah, I've got no talent for poetry or limericks." She glanced at Dean again. "Though it would be fun to make you suffer that way."

"If you are going to tell them, tell them, but we are wasting time." Castiel said, his monotone belying his growing impatience.

"Careful, Castiel." Gail said. "I can feel the mortality creeping up on you." She laughed. "Which is actually kind of funny, you know, given the circumstances of what you are. But I really am beginning to wonder who started yanking the stick out of your ass."

"I thought we were talking about you." Sam said. "More specifically the thing inside you, what it is, and why—"

"She works for the Hierarchy?" Gail shrugged. "On that count I dunno, dumb luck I think. But I'll tell you what she is, whether your little brains are clever enough to grasp the concept however… Well, that I doubt." She tapped her chest. "Long ago, well if you want an exact time frame, fifteen thousand years ago, someone…" she paused again. "Or something, created what's known as the multiverse."

"Multiverse?" Dean asked.

"Fifteen thousand years?" Bobby demanded. "The universe wasn't created fifteen thousand years ago."

"With the time compression in this particular one, it wasn't." Gail agreed. "But a multiverse is a universe filled with parallel realities," Gail said, spreading her hands. "Like they tell you in Stargate, it's all true. There are billions of them, all filled with people, places, monsters, and cultures, all different and all echoing through each other. Some move faster and some slower, like this one, it feels like it's been billions of years and in here it has, though the reality is that it's only been fifteen thousand. But I suppose I can get to that later, I'm starting to get ahead of myself. But to understand about her, you have to understand that the Hierarchy, the angels, they don't just police this world. The war isn't just here, the rules here are not the same as the ones governing the reality next door, and that's important for you to remember if you want to understand." She sucked in a deep breath, tilting her head to the side again, her eyes going glassy as if she was listening to a far away voice. Dean didn't doubt that it was the voice of this "Mace" the being that was using her body as a time-share. "I am, or Mace is, and I suppose on some level it doesn't matter, what is called an Eternal. A being that has existed since the beginning, or maybe even before that, I'm not sure."

Sam nodded, he thought he was grasping the concept, but it still sounded to wild to be believed. He glanced at Castiel and realized to his surprise that though the angel was glowering at the young woman, he was also nodding in agreement. _This can't possibly be true…_ He thought. _Can it?_

Gail blinked. "You see; the first memory Mace has is standing in a world of grey and a landscape filled with ash with fourteen others. Where they came from and who they were in the before, she doesn't know. She just knows that there was one and that she came from there." She glanced at Castiel whose glower had gotten deeper.

"But enough of my oh-so-delightfully fresh heresy, the legend that she knows and that Castiel wouldn't tell says that when God created the universe, He found that it could not sustain itself on its own and still deliver life. They say that God was lonely and He wished for life, so He created a source, a battery to power all the dimensions of the multiverse, to keep it online so to speak. He tried and failed, but this battery, this nexus could not exist on its own. It needed a host. But God knew the dangers of placing the nexus in a single being, knowing that He could not trust the safety of His universe to the life of only one. So, God searched, reaching outside His own creation for those who would be strong enough to bear His gift. He found fourteen and plucked them from their own places in time and bringing them to Creation, for God's universe was not the only place of life."

"Wait," Sam began. "What?"

Ignoring Sam, Gail continued. "Unknown to the others, He broke His nexus into fourteen pieces and placed it inside these mortal creatures, rendering them immortal and unchanging. But God knew His crime was great and to hide it from the others, He sealed His multiverse away, so that none might venture in or out. So jealous was God of His power and so fearful was He of the Others. After placing in them the pieces of the nexus and wiping from them all memory of the outside lands, God then knew he must create a system for them and those who would watch them for signs of treachery and bring order to His universe. So, God created the Angels next, and at the center of His universe, below the Holy Fields of Heaven, He placed Pinnacle, the gateway to the Underworld. But God did not yet know how to create life of His own, so the Angels were not truly alive but mechanical, beings known as constructs. But still, He feared an uprising from those He had stolen and placed in the Angels a greater strength, so that they might defend His Universe from those now called Eternals."

She glanced around the room with a slow sigh, seeing confusion on all the faces except Castiel's, he knew the story, but she also understood that he didn't believe a word of it. He trusted in the Angel's version, the one that gave no explanation for the differentiated souls of the Eternals.

"After Lucifer's uprising and being cast down out of Heaven along with one third of his brethren, the Eternals were split. Seven fell to aid the forces of Hell and seven remained at Pinnacle, loyal to their duties." She shrugged. " And that's one of the stories, I don't know if that's right or not, but it's the one that she…" Gail tapped her chest. "Believes and given that she is me and I am her, I'm inclined to believe it. But that might just be my personal feelings on the matter. Either way, they're here and they are what they are. But the reason why they're so secret is that if all fourteen are ever brought together again, they have the power to destroy the multiverse as we know it. That's the part everyone agrees on. Though at this point it's highly doubtful that you could actually _get_ all fourteen into the same room. No, you can't get three into a room with one or both trying to kill one of the others. Does that help you? Or are your tiny mortal brains even more confused than before? I'm betting you are."

"Well, it's one I ain't one I ever heard before." Bobby said. "And I've heard an awful lot."

"It's a nice bedtime story." Dean said. "But that doesn't make it real."

"It is heresy." Castiel stated firmly.

"Suite yourselves, you asked for a story and I gave you one. If you can't wrap your minds around it, it's your own damn fault." Gail replied. "Doesn't change the way things are, what I am or what she is, or the fact that you two apparently broke this particular universe." She smiled after a moment. "Which if I personally have to thank you for."

"Thank us?" Sam asked. He'd been expecting some kind of talking to, a throw down of insults, or at the very least disapproval. What he hadn't been expecting was gratitude. _The only ones who've ever thanked us are the demons and they're just glad to be out of Hell._ It was a little unnerving to be honest.

"Yeah," she nodded. "Since I woke up like five years ago, I have been so damn _bored_! You have no idea what it's been like! I'm totally glad we're finally getting an apocalypse! Or she is, or she doesn't care, or she's just looking forward to breaking bones, I can never tell which. It might be all of them." She smiled at Castiel. "I'm so glad the angels finally decided to move up the time table on that, though I could have done without them yanking her, er, me off that assignment. It was sorta important."

"You did mention an assignment when we met." Sam said. "What exactly was it about? I mean, what do these Eternals do?"

Gail gazed at him for a moment. "Maybe when I like you better I'll tell you."

"The Eternals and their soul children the Ancients, do a variety of things for the Hierarchy." Castiel said. "They do recovery work for artifacts that have been either stolen, lost, or placed into the wrong hands. They change the course of history through assassination and other means. In a shortened explanation, they maintain balance within the different universes and fight on both sides of the war between Heaven and Hell."

"And sometimes they get really, really mundane jobs," Gail added sweetly as she glanced at Dean. "Like babysitting you."

Castile paused, glaring at her, irritated by the interruption. "Each of them have a certain task which they must carry out, but to know what those are one would have to ask them. Four of these fourteen have been famously noted in Revelations as the Horsemen of the Apocalypse."

"Though the bible gets it all wrong." Gail chimed in. "And the titles aren't permanent, they're rotating. If one isn't doing their job or dies on the job, they're given to someone else."

"So, that would mean…" Sam trailed off. This was all a little hard to take in. He found that he didn't like it. He wanted things to return to the way they were, when it had been just one universe. "Your job description is…"

"Sometimes it means ending the world, yeah." Gail nodded. "Good catch, Sammy boy, it's excellent to see one of you paying attention." Her dark gaze sidled to his brother. "Even if one of you is just picking his nose."

"Girl, I may not believe a single thing coming out of your mouth," Dean snapped. "But I'm paying attention. You're talking about alternate universes, these shard thingies that power everything, and ending the world. Or something. It's not that I'm not listening sweetheart, it's just that I don't care."

"Good," Gail smiled. "Then our apathy is mutual. And anyway Apocalypses don't mean much to her anymore. I mean hey, she's single-handedly been the cause of a couple and jumpstarted a few more. We all remember what happened to Atlantis."

"No." Dean said.

"It was destroyed." Sam responded, ignoring his brother.

"Exactly."

"If I recall correctly," Castiel said, his voice monotone as he glared at the young woman, his irritation showing in the bunching muscles of his shoulders. "You were the cause of Atlantis's destruction. Several times."

"I can recall at least five." Gail said, tapping the side of her head. "But I'm sure it's been more than that."

"Destroyed?" Dean choked.

"You destroyed Atlantis?" Sam asked. He was staring at her aghast.

"Well, not me personally. I wasn't there. I've only been her interface for the past six hundred years or so." Gail said. "She was the one who did it. Sometimes just for fun."

"For _fun_!" Dean's voice strangled in his throat, gaining an even higher pitch as it hit the confined space. He didn't like where this conversation was headed and he liked the subject even less.

"They weren't nice people, Dean." Gail said. Her voice was flat. "They were slavers, they practiced human sacrifice with slaves, those coming before the ritual animal ones, and if they weren't stopped, they usually went on to conquer the world. Those never become nice places to visit." Gail shuddered. "Believe you me. Plus," she added with a sigh. "They worshipped the stupid, pain in the ass Titans."

"The Titans?" Dean asked. "As in Greek mythology Titans? They're real?"

"Well, not here they weren't and they were real." Gail said. "I don't know if they are anymore, the ones that weren't destroyed got shut up in one of the worlds of the afterlife, Tartarus if I remember right. They've probably died of starvation by now. Very big, very destructive, very powerful, and not very pleasant. She doesn't like to talk about it. Though she'll happily discuss both her hatred of the Spartans and Hecate." Gail pursed her lips in a resigned pout. "She really hates Hecate. I mean really, I don't know what that goddess did, but Mace is still carrying the grudge." Gail shrugged. "Kinda weird, kinda sand, but hey, that's life right. I think Hecate was an old girlfriend but—" Gail paused and winced. "Ouch, clearly I've said too much. Shutting up now."

"But still," Sam began. "Wiping out an entire civilization as a form of entertainment..."

"Occasionally," Castiel said, his voice clipped as he stared at Gail. "Mace has been known to get bored."

"Like she is right now." Gail said with an easy grin. "Hasn't had enough heads to crack lately, she's getting all itchy and fight happy. Either way, she's got a six figure body count." Gail looked down at her fingers as if she was trying to count. "Or is it seven? Maybe eight? I'm never sure, she doesn't go into great detail."

"I believe changing the course of early human civilization is one of her specialties." Castiel said. "As is her colorful work history."

"Damn straight." Gail grinned. She glanced around the group and shook her head again. "But maybe we should be moving on to more cheerful subjects, I may love myself like a narcissist but she doesn't like to be talked about."

"I'm all for it." Dean nodded. He glanced at Bobby. "We've got more important things to discuss, like how we're going to stop an apocalypse."

Sam glanced at Gail, he'd wanted to hear more, learn more about this strange person and the creature living inside of her. He wanted to know about the realities that lay beyond this one, if there was really a world outside of this multiverse and if Gail could remember what it was like. She seemed quite adamant on the subject. He wanted to know about the time she called "the before". But he also agreed with Dean, he'd opened the final seal when he killed Lucifer, they had to find a way to fix what they'd broken. _And maybe this Gail knows a way._

She hadn't seemed all that afraid of Castiel and she had helped Bobby. _Even if it's not right away._ Sam believed her when she said that the old hunter would walk again. He wanted to trust her. _But I've trusted supernatural beings before._ And it hadn't turned out well. Sam glanced at his brother, knowing that Dean didn't put Gail any higher on the food chain than the demons they hunted. From the look in his eyes, Sam knew that his brother wished he could hunt her. _Though that might be a bad idea._ A small part of him wondered if Gail had even begun showing them what she could do, she'd trounced them easily the first time, and Sam doubted that they'd fare much better without any preparation. _If we're going to fight this "Mace" we need to learn more about it._ And find out if they could get it out of Gail's body. There had to be a way to free her from it, Sam knew. There had to be.

"Fine." He nodded, turning to Castiel. If it was time to get back to business then it was time to get back to business. "What did you come here for?"

* * *

**A/N:** Now, we're getting into it. The explanations, the stories, the backgrounds of these characters. Not all of it, but there's a lot there, so it'll be revealed slowly. If you're interested keep on reading. I always look forward to reviews! Love 'em!

Feed the muse!


	6. Chapter 6: A Fool's Errand

Chapter Six: A Fool's Errand and a Phone Call

_"Because I could not stop for Death,_

_He kindly stopped for me;_

_The carriage held but just ourselves_

_And Immortality. "_

- Emily Dickinson

"Yes, I'd like to know why the angel came all the way here." Gail said, stepping back to lean against the wall. Her arms crossed over her chest as she evaluated the men standing in the room. "I mean, angels never come unless they want something." She stopped and paused, tapping her lip. "No that's not right, demand is a better word. They never stop by unless they demand something that is of the utmost importance to the safety and security of the universe." She glanced at Sam and gave another shrug. "Angels, always needing a healthy dose of that age old question: 'Why so serious?'" She tilted her head and used both her index fingers to pull her mouth into something like a widened smile, though to Sam it looked more like a grimace. She waited for a moment and then, when she didn't get a laugh, added. "This is why I prefer the demons, you know, at least they have a sense of humor." She shrugged. "Makes the Fallen a bit more dangerous though, possessing that pesky ability called self awareness. All the powers of the Angels and even more crafty." She shook her head. "No demons are fun the way a painful, burning death is fun, the way a nuclear explosion is fun, the way watching a hundred hours of the Twilight movie over and over and over again is," Gail shuddered from the thought, her last comment making Sam smile for a moment. "Fun."

"Yeah, we already know that demons aren't a lot of fun." He said. "Got a lot of personal experience."

"Right." She said. Sam was surprised, she sounded skeptical. "I'm sure you have." She chewed on her lower lip for a moment, resting her head against the wall, her ponytail crushed against her skull. "Though that begs the question of why you two aren't a messy, bloody, chunky stain on a wall somewhere. I mean, after seeing the two of you in action that would be the logical conclusion one would come to." She shrugged. " I don't know, maybe you're just lucky."

"And maybe you're just arrogant." Dean snapped from the other side of the room.

"Got me there." She said. "But at least I know what I'm doing, most of the time, and I'm not in the habit of making enemies who are bigger, stronger, older, and tougher than I am. I mean, I'm arrogant," she shrugged. "But I'm smarter than you."

"Okay, I've had enough of you!" Dean snarled. "You want enemies, you've got 'em."

"Oooh," Gail smiled. "You're so big and tough and manly and you're threatening little old me with your tough manliness. Whatever am I to do? How will I ever defend myself from you? Who will save me? I mean you're so…so…stupid." She straightened, her smile widening into a self-satisfied smirk. "I beat you already, remember? The parking lot? You're short term memory can't be that bad, can it?" She lifted her right hand and showed it to him, her waxy fingernails glistening in the light. They were curved at the edges but still looked sharp, and they were long. The tips were a healthy, creamy white. "I mean, that fight lasted about five minutes. And see? Didn't even break one of these."

"Enough!" Castiel growled. "And you, Interface, I came on a mission, you can spend time irritating Dean Winchester later."

"You're not the boss of me, Castiel."

"How in Heaven's name does he put up with you?" Castiel grimaced. He found the girl trying at best, irritating at worst, under normal circumstances he would just let the insults roll off of him as he had Dean's. But these were no longer normal circumstances. It was difficult knowing that damaged as Mace was, and he or she was incredibly damaged; the Eternal was at the moment still more powerful than he. And Mace knew it. A frightening thought.

"Hasn't got a choice?" She said with yet another shrug. She seemed to like to shrug. "Likes my charming witticisms and silly humor? Doesn't like you? All of the above? With her the possibilities are endless, really."

"What did you come for Cas?" Dean asked. He was bitterly trying to ignore her, he didn't know what the girl's problem was and Dean wasn't sure he wanted to find out. _I just want her and her crazy ass split personality out of my life._ Next time he wouldn't let her get the jump on him. _And that's a promise._ "If it wasn't to heal Bobby, then why are you here?"

"I don't have much time," Castiel said. "I have wasted much of it already and we need to talk."

"Oh, this should be good." Gail chirped.

"Okay?" Dean asked with a quick shake of his head. He was trying to pretend that Gail didn't exist. _She is invisible. She is not a part of this conversation._ He wondered if he should have told Sam that.

"Your plan, to kill Lucifer…" Castiel trailed off.

"You're planning to kill Lucifer?" Gail asked. She straightened, her eyes widening slightly with interest as she looked at him, but the newfound respect that Sam expected to find just wasn't there. "I already know you're an idiot and I should have guessed it, but… Are you fucking suicidal? You? Kill Lucifer?" A bark of laughter burst through her lips, throwing Sam off guard and Dean strained to keep his eyes on Castiel. "That's the best joke I've heard in a while." The laughter kept coming as her shoulders began to shake. "You killing Lucifer. Ha!"

"Ignoring little miss wacko over there," Dean said. "Yean. You wanna help?"

"No!" Castiel snapped, his voice creeping above its monotone, indicating his stress. "She's right, it's foolish. It can't be done."

"Oh, thanks for the support."

"Even if you did, he'd just respawn anyway." Gail added. Leaning over, she snatched one of the health magazines off the table across from Bobby's bed and began leafing through it. Her eyes were on the pictures of sunsets and ads for erectile dysfunction as she added. "Makes that option pretty damn pointless."

"Excuse me?" Dean asked, turning on her. "What did you just say?"

"Fifteen thousand years as the leader of Hell? You think the demons and everything else that's down there just fell into line? You don't think anyone's tried to assassinate him? Seriously? With all the people gunning for him, at some point, someone had to succeed." She shrugged. "Didn't matter much though, he just came back." Gail tilted her head. "He's sorta like a fungus that way. A really big, annoying, powerful, pain in the ass, grows between your toes and you can't get rid of, arrogant son of a bitch in a business suit kind of fungus, but still a fungus." She tapped her cheek. "A fungus in charge of a lot of demons, monsters, and other things that go bump in the night. Lovely, I'm gonna have the nightmares again." She shrugged with a quick shake of her head. "But in the long run, he's about as annoying as a back zit. Oh well, life goes on."

"Yeah?" Dean asked. He lifted his chin defiantly. "Then I guess they just didn't do the job right."

"Oh," she laughed. "And you could do better? You? Really?" Her laughter grew louder as she shook her head and returned to the magazine articles, her eyes no longer on him but her shoulders shaking even as her laughter died down to a whisper. "Stop it, really, I'm totally gonna die from laughter. Seriously Dean, if you keep this up I'll ROFLMAO. That means rolling on the floor laughing my ass off, by the way, if you don't speak internet." She smiled "And I know no one wants to see that."

"But, I believe I have the solution." Castiel said breaking into their conversation. He cast another warning glance at Gail, telling her to keep her mouth shut. The girl just smiled, tracing her finger across her lips she made a locking motion and tossed an invisible key over her shoulder. He was not entirely sure what that meant, but he hoped she would let the conversation stay on track. "There is someone besides Michael strong enough to stop the Apocalypse." From where she leaned against the wall, Gail rolled her eyes and continued flipping through her magazine.

"Who's that?" Sam asked. He glanced from Castiel to Gail, expecting the young woman to chime in with a quick, witty answer. All he got in response from her though, was a smile.

"The one who resurrected me and put you on that airplane." Castile said. His voice was filled with conviction and certainty. "The one who began everything." Castiel's eyes swung back to Dean, his gaze filled with a fervent, feverish, and almost fanatical belief. "God."

Leaning against the wall, Gail just snorted. Her opinion of the matter was clear on her face as she continued flicking through the magazine, trying to ignore the idiocy of their conversation.

"I'm going to find God."

There was a secondary pause as Dean turned around and slammed the door to Bobby's hospital room shut. "God?" He asked as the taupe door clicked into place, disbelief clear and present in both his tone and on his face.

"Yes." Castiel replied.

"God?" Dean asked again, this time just to be sure the subject was as crazy as it sounded. _And just when I thought we were all full up on crazy._ He thought, resisting the urge to cast a sarcastic sideways glance at Gail. _Does the legendary Eternal buy into this bullcrap or is she just like me?_ He supposed he would have his answer soon. The girl couldn't seem to resist commenting on anything she found idiotic, dull, or stupid. _And so far, for her, everything's been that way._

"He isn't in Heaven, he has to be somewhere."

"Maybe he's in hell." Gail offered in a low voice. Dean ignored her.

"Try New Mexico." He said with a toss of his head, the smile playing on his lips as he laughed at his own joke. "I hear he's on a tortilla."

Castiel looked down for a moment, the sarcasm clearly not registering. He glanced up again, his forehead creased with confusion. "No, he's not on any flat bread."

Dean shut his eyes. Dealing with angels was always trying. They all seemed to lack the basic sense of humor that humanity came equipped with, it made being witty difficult. He nearly glanced at Gail again. _Okay, her ability to make jokes and pop culture references is clearly a sign that she's not an angel. But whatever the hell an Eternal is, the fact that she tries to be funny doesn't make it any better._ And he hated always being the butt of her jokes.

"Okay, chuckles." He said. "Even if there is a god, he is either dead, and that's the generous theory!"

"He is out there, Dean."

"Or," Dean continued, ignoring Castiel for the moment. "He's up and kicking and he doesn't give a rat's ass about any of us." Dean leaned forward leering into Castiel's eyes with smug satisfaction as he watched the angel's shoulders tighten. He knew he'd gotten under Castiel's skin with the last comment. _Heh,_ he thought. _Who knew Cas was suffering from abandonment issues?_ The angel's jaw twitched as he drew himself upward.

"There's a third theory." Gail called from where she leaned against the wall. She looked up from the magazine, her head titled, her fingers playing with the glossy corners. "He never existed at all."

"You're an atheist?" Sam asked in surprise as he glanced at her. "You? You work for Heaven!"

"So?" Gail replied with a shrug. "I believe there are gods, Sammy boy." She added after a moment of reflection. "I mean, Christ, I'm living with one." She patted her stomach in a strange manner as she spoke, and her expression as she looked down at it was almost fond. Sam found it all mildly creepy. But he had to be honest about his gut reactions, there was little about her that wasn't off putting and more than a little strange. "I just don't believe in the God, the one God and all powerful Maker of this and a billion other universes. That's all."

"I mean look around you, man!" Dean exclaimed as he walked past Castile and towards Bobby. He had this tingling suspicion in his shoulders that Sammy was already getting chummy with the crazy girl. _Yeah, well, not like Ruby was a much better choice._ That brought back bitter memories. "The world is in the toilet! We are literally at the end of days here and He's off somewhere drinking booze out of a coconut."

"Just like Merlin at the end of 'the Sword and the Stone'." Gail said. "Watch out he'll come racing back on his jet ski if you call for him loud enough, all sparkles, fireworks and thunderclouds." She paused and tapped her cheek. "I don't think she ever liked Merlin. Don't know if she knew him though, not personally anyway." Then she sighed, perhaps a little sadly. "Yet another figure of legend the world gets so horribly wrong. They always glorify the bad ones and forget the good ones. Life's not fair, is it?" She lifted her hand, pretending to hold a mouse by its tail, her voice sinking into a horrible Jeremy Irons impression. "I mean I, well I shall never be king, huh. And you shall never see the light of another day, hmm? And you."

"Would it kill you to try and be serious here?" Castile demanded as he rounded on her.

Gail rolled her eyes and stared at him. "Yes!" She put down her magazine and crossed her eyes. "Besides, didn't your father ever tell you not to play with your food?"

"I hardly see how that is relevant." Castiel replied. Expression hidden behind a large hand, Sam hid a smile.

"Damn Cas, I hate to say it but I'm with her!" Dean snapped. "Disney quotes and all!"

"Really?" Gail asked. "I find it hard to believe you've seen the light, dumb dumb. If you've really converted next time bring me gum gum."

This time Dean rolled his eyes and did his best to ignore her. "It's hard to take such a stupid idea seriously! Alright?"

"Enough!" Castiel snarled. "This is not a religious issue! It's strategic! With God's help, we can win."

"Yeah?" Gail asked. "Like every single army, the good Catholic Church, and every football team in the history of sports haven't said the exact same thing." She shrugged. "And look where most of them ended up. Asking for God's help never ends well, I mean how many prayers have people sent up to you angels? How many of them do you answer? I mean, someone in the Hierarchy's gotta be collecting on those, saving up on all that power. But I don't really remember too many angels lifting a finger to help either." She looked away. "But that's the way prayer works, they give, you receive, and you don't have to make a return on the investment."

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked. He glanced at her in surprise, he'd never heard prayer described that way.

"Prayer is simply a very ancient form of magic." Gail said. "The only one that the Catholic Church and those pesky, pesky Christians deemed ok when they started purging out the pagan stuff." She shrugged again. "For all its supposed holiness, that's just what it is, magical energy being sent up to those they worship. It's not any different from what the Pagans did, or what the other religions do now. You worship nature, your energy goes to nature, you worship the One God, your energy goes to his representative. It's just a commodity, Sam and those actual gods that do still exist rely on it. But for others, like her, it's just a helpful extra boost in the magical energies." She glanced at him, wearing another wry expression. "You never made that connection?"

"Stop it!" Castiel snarled. "I will not listen to your heresy."

"It's not heresy," Gail sighed. "It's Magical Theory 101, the ways magic can be tapped and implemented. You should have already gotten this lesson." Her mouth quirked into a sarcastic grin as her gaze swung to him. "_Cas._"

The angel was mildly impressed by how she managed to turn Dean's quirky, if sometimes insulting, nickname for him into a full-blown insult. _But this is Mace's interface we are talking about._ She was a strangely unusual one and he could tell that without his advanced senses. But beyond that Castiel couldn't tell. Unlike most humans, Mace had lived for a very long time and the defenses he had raised around himself were still superb. _And he is using her to defer suspicion._ But the girl too looked strange to Castiel's eyes, it was almost as if her soul was a piece of glass that had been smashed with a hammer and fractured into a thousand tiny bits. There was no fluidity to her, no sense of completeness, it left a bad taste in Castiel's mouth. She was carrying heavy scars from a previous life and Castiel was sure that the surface was only the beginning. Still, he was not strong enough prod without serious consequences and Castiel knew that he would need all his remaining strength for the days to come. He could not afford to waste any of it on this mystery. No matter how intriguing it was.

"Either way," Dean snapped. "And ignoring Eternal One's ridiculousness. It's a pipe dream, Cas."

"I killed two angels this week." Castiel growled taking a step forward. The pain of the deed was still present in his eyes and his intense stare. "My brothers, I'm hunted, I've rebelled, and I did it, all of it for you."

"Wow," Gail said with a clap of her hands. "Will the real gay lovers please stand up?" She pretended to shiver. "And I can just feel the tension soaring. Why don't you two just kiss already and get it over with?" Gail added with a smile. "Get a room, light some incense, take a bath, you know, the works."

"You don't seriously believe that?" Sam asked. He glanced at her. In that moment she'd reminded him a bit too much of his own personal fan. "About Cas and Dean…" He trailed off, not really wanting to think about it. Angels didn't have the proper gear anyway, so it wouldn't work out. At least, he hoped not.

"I swear!" Gail rolled her eyes for the final time, falling back against the wall in disgust. "You two are the biggest pair of ninnies I've ever met! And that's counting a succubus, all my exes and the roommate who tried to eat my soul!" She lifted her hands, tucking them behind her head, closing her eyes with a sigh. "And by the way, none of those stories ended happily for me."

"Didn't think they would have." Was all Sam could think of to respond.

_Succubus? Roommate that tried to eat her soul?_ What the hell was she talking about? Sam knew this would require further investigation, but he also understood that this was not the time. _But I sure am gonna question her a later date._ If she had any supernatural experiences she wasn't sharing, Sam wanted to know. _It'll be good to have a full understanding of her capabilities._ In case they ever needed to stand against her. _Maybe even find out what she is and how to kill her._ He hated thinking like that, but the end of the world had begun and Sam couldn't afford to take chances.

"And you failed." Castiel said, ignoring Gail and Sam. "You and your brother destroyed the world!"

"Cut 'em some slack." Gail sighed as she watched Sam's face fall. "It's not like this is the first time, _Cas_. And it certainly won't be the last." She glanced at the three hunters and after another short pause added. "Though these three will probably be dead by the time the next one rolls around." She shrugged. "Or maybe they'll be unlucky and get conscripted, or get reborn as fleas for their failure."

"Does she ever shut up?" Dean muttered. He knew that Cas was trying to be serious, to impress upon them the seriousness of the situation, but Gail's blasé attitude unnerved him. She made it feel like it wasn't all that bad, wasn't all that important. _Yeah, but she wanted one._ His mind snapped back. _And she probably doesn't care that half the planet is about to be torched, or that millions, maybe billions of innocents are going to die._ Dean was certain that the young woman just didn't care and deep down that horrified him. He stared into Castiel's eyes.

"And I lost everything!" The angel hissed, his voice lowering to a near whisper, the ache of his loss plain, the weight of it hanging heavy around his shoulders. "For nothing!" He glared at Dean for another few moments and watched the young human swallow, his eyes searching Castiel's face. He knew Dean had never seen him this angry before, but the truth was that Castiel had never felt this mad, this sense of betrayal and loss. _Not since the angels who rebelled with Lucifer were judged and cast down into Perdition._ "So," he continued. "Keep your opinions to yourself!"

"And her?" Dean jabbed his thumb back at Gail. "You gonna give her the same speech?"

Castiel sucked in a deep, heady breath, trying to calm himself. "She, at least, is attached to someone who knows." He said. "Who knows what an Apocalypse is and what it means. She knows, Dean, she knows what is to come. While I am disgusted by the way she revels in it, I cannot begrudge her comments or those of the girl he, or perhaps now he truly has become a she, is riding. That girl suffers more than you realize, any fool could see that, and if she has not gone insane yet, she soon will. That is her fate, as it is the fate of all Interfaces. They were born into this world together Dean and they will die together. The girl is aware of that and what she suffers, you cannot understand. But her suffering is why I can accept what she says."

"What?" Dean asked. He didn't get it. _I thought Castiel hated her?_ At the very least, the angel seemed to deeply dislike her. _Like I do._ He didn't want Gail to come along, but he couldn't see any good way to ditch her. Castiel's quick turn around was unnerving. He glanced over at Gail again. She didn't seem to be taking any of this that hard.

Finally, Bobby spoke from his chair. He sounded tired, his voice carrying a wince of pain as he shifted in his blue bathrobe, hands resting in his lap. "You didn't just drop in to tear us a new hole."

"Fun as it was to watch." Gail cut in.

The smile on her lips was amused and she tilted her head, watching as Bobby Singer shook his grizzled, old head in disgust. She did feel a little bad about the time it would take for him to feel, but not so bad that she was willing to attempt it again. The first round had been hard enough. She'd nearly made mistakes that might have cost him his life. _Or turned him into the living dead. Made him reborn through death, though the dying first part wouldn't have been pleasant._

_You were a fool to try._ Mace's voice echoed from deep inside her.

_Thought you were napping._ She replied. _I told you, I can handle this._

_Oh, I have absolute faith in you kid. Never fear._ The deep voice rumbled in an amused chuckle at the back of her mind and Gail felt her alter ego swell closer to the surface.

She knew though, that Mace would not take over her fully. The Eternal was still to weak for that. The few times that he, she, Gail could never really keep his gender straight. Their interface connection was patched and broken, anything but standard. Gail knew that if it were working properly she would not be thinking of herself as two separate people. They were supposed to be one with no discernable differences. But between the injuries he'd suffered at the hands of his fellows and the hack job they'd narrowly escaped from, she supposed that this was as good as it was going to get. Not that she would ever tell her traveling companions any of this. She doubted she would ever tell them the whole story, or the whole truth.

_I simply don't trust the Fallen angel cake. Bland as he is, an angel is still a great threat._ Mace's voice was deep, like fallen rocks shifting and grating together in the deepest depths of a forgotten cave. His voice was shadowed and masculine. She knew that deep he still perceived himself as male even though circumstances had trapped him into being a woman. While she was comfortable enough in this shape, she knew that he was not. Sometimes, he was simply too different for her to think of as herself. _You should be careful._

_Aren't I always?_ She asked, her mental tone cheeky. Inside her mind she felt Mace's tail swing up out of the darkness, the way it always did when he was either irritated or in an oddly good mood, and she prepared to take the hit. But it stopped a few inches from her and she heard him laugh, his voice changing to speak in hissing whispers that she did not understand. But she knew he was cursing, Mace was always doing that, the question was just the language and how vile the obscenities. She was glad that he never chose to curse heavily in her own tongue. It was a kindness of a sort.

_Very funny, kidlet._ Came the response. _I am watching you._ Then he faded and disappeared down into the darkness.

She wondered if he was sleeping again or if he was initiating self-repairs. In their first few years together he'd spent most of his time focused on her injuries and dismantling the traps and control mechanisms that Fade, another Eternal, had installed a little less than six hundred years ago. She knew that Mace had mostly done it for himself, when he'd woken he'd been nearly mad from trauma, betrayal and loss. The same things she'd been feeling. _But Mace gave me my life back._

Even if his waking had forced her to slowly abandon the one she'd had. _I'm grateful for that._ Yes, Gail was truly grateful and she was sure that meant she'd played right into his claws. After all, in the end she was he and he was she. They were one and separate. And if they were going to survive they needed each other. But Gail knew one thing, Mace never told her the whole truth. Often she could tell what was and what was not, but she'd dug through his memories, she knew he was a charmer, a silver tongued liar. Gail was sure some of them slipped past her, when she could even get him to talk. But she knew what he'd promised her and knew what she wanted more than anything: revenge.

With Mace though, besides his obvious injuries, he never felt truly angry about what happened. No, it wasn't revenge, the cold fire the burned in Gail's breast, if he was to take one it would not get in the way of his duty. Mace had his own strange, alien, code of honor, one that he followed without question and willingly bent to fit his needs. In his fathomless depths she understood that duty came first, always. The job was his distraction. It was all he had to keep him going. He lived in constant pain and as he did, so did she. Though he did his best to shield her from it. That was his honor and perhaps a bit of kindness. But where he was kind to her, himself, she also understood the realities. His devotion to honor was the only thing keeping the Winchesters safe and even that was a thin and delicate thread. _Poor boys,_ she thought. _They're doomed._

The only answer she received was hard and heavy laughter.

"What do you want?" Bobby finished.

He glanced at the girl, but Gail was spacing out again. He wondered if she did that a lot. _Kid's pretty much a flake, it was creepy enough hearin' her argue with herself in the third person, referrin' to Mace. Kiddo's pretty batty, but I can't deny she's seven kinds of powerful. Never met a witch like her, if a witch is what she is._ The boys had said the angels sent her, but from what Bobby could see she didn't seem to like them all that much. _Discord amongst co-workers, eh?_ Then there was that cock and bull line of bullshit about shards and alternate universes. _It ain't a question o' whether she believed it. Question is, is it true?_ Bobby doubted that.

"I did come for something." Castiel said. He was ignoring Gail, his intent gaze focused on Dean. Finally, he let it drop and glanced at Bobby. "An amulet."

"An amulet?" Bobby repeated, his voice questioning. He wasn't sure what it meant or why Castiel had come to them in search of it. He didn't think any of them possessed an amulet and if Gail was the one who did, Bobby doubted that the strange girl would give it up. "What kind?"

"Very rare," Castiel said with a shift of his shoulders. "Very powerful. It burns hot in God's presence, it'll help me find him."

Gail looked up, her expression hooded and thoughtful. But despite wanting to, said nothing and simply leaned back against the wall. Speaking with Mace was much easier than spending time with these men who called themselves "Hunters". To her it was a term loosely given, especially considering than none of them seemed to know much about the magic arts, a useful skill when hunting monsters.

Silently, she shut her eyes and leaned back, hoping for a moment that a dreamless sleep might come. She was so very tired. _Can't lose sight of the charge._ If he got away from her she'd probably never hear the end of it. She could keep going. _But this whole exchange is pretty ridiculous._ She could tell that Castiel was one of those angels who'd been genuinely taken in by the Hierarchy's line of bullshit and she felt a little sorry for him. But not much, most of the time she hurt too much to feel anything. _This has got to be the lamest assignment ever!_ She heard a chuckle from deep inside her, apparently, her wise all knowing other self disagreed. _You don't think so? Does this mean it's story time?_

_No._

"A God EMF?" Sam asked. He glanced at Gail, wondering where she'd lost her snappy come back. The girl's eyes were glazed ever so slightly and there was an odd smile on her face, it was like she was listening to a voice only she could hear. _No, that's not creepy._ At least Ruby had never done that. Slowly, Sam watched the angel nod.

"Well, I don't know what you're talking about." Bobby said. "I got nothing like that."

"No," Castiel said. "You don't." He turned towards Dean, his gaze dropping to the small bronze trinket that the eldest Winchester always wore around his neck. The good luck charm his brother Sammy had given him one lonely Christmas Eve. It had been a gift meant for their father, one that Dean still treasured deeply. It was a sign of his connection to Sam and the trust that had been lost between them. "May I borrow it?"

"No!" Dean's voice came out in a seething growl.

"Dean," Castiel said. "Give it to me."

"Wow," Gail murmured. "Deus ex Machina in action." She chuckled. "And to think I said that there was no god."

Dean glared at her, then glanced back at Castiel. Her ridiculing him wasn't making it any easier to part with such a treasured possession. He stared at Castiel for several long moments, dropping his gaze, and then looking up at him again. He opened his mouth to ask why and then remembered Castiel's earlier speech. The angel had placed so much faith in him, how could he not do the same? "Fine." He grumbled, taking off the necklace and handing it to the angel. Castiel reached for it, but Dean tugged it back, lifting it to dangle in the air between them. It was a solemn promise. "Don't," Dean said. "Don't lose it." He watched Castiel nod in agreement and then placed it in the angel's hand. With reverence, Castiel took it, gazing down in awe, and, for the first time, with hope. "Great," Dean grumbled, pulling his lapel up around his neck. "Now I feel naked."

"Funny." Gail said from across the room. "I can arrange that reality for you, if you want."

"You want to see me naked?" Dean asked. He was a little surprised. He hadn't thought that she was that into him.

"Not like that!" She laughed. "Strip you and leave you prancing around the hospital thinking you were wearing new clothes? Yes, that I would do. It'd be hilarious."

Dean shivered. He got the feeling that she was completely serious. _And she'd enjoy it._ What else did he need to prove she was evil? _Her absolute lack of a conscience gives it away._ "Now I really feel naked." He muttered, turning back to Castiel.

"I'll be in touch." Castiel said. Dean turned away, rolling his eyes, he knew the drill, a flap of wings and a vanishing trick, a little gust of wind, then he, Bobby, and Sam would be all alone with his new bodyguard. It surprised him though, when Castiel turned and added one more farewell. "Do not break them while I'm gone."

"Oh come on," Gail smiled. "A little death will be good for them and it's not like your superiors won't bring them back. After all, they are vital to your little war effort, aren't they?"

"It is not my war effort." Castiel replied. "And the warning stands, they are not your playthings."

"And if you don't listen to my warning great evil shall befall you." Gail replied with a yawn. "Blah, blah, blah, play a new tune on that horn, okay? I already know about the box, _Cas_. I can hardly think of a punishment worse than that." Castiel did not reply, there was simply a flap of wings and then he was gone. Gail sighed loudly. "Angels, always ones for the fancy entrances and exits. Waste of time if you ask me, he could have just walked out." She lifted her fingers. "But no, that wouldn't be mysterious. Ooooh."

Dean sighed loudly. "Okay, how much to have to pay to get you to shut up?"

"You think you can bribe me?" Gail asked, her eyes wide in feigned shock. "Dean! Is that really what you think of me? That I can be so easily bought by a few dollar bills? Is that all my help is worth to you?"

"So, that's a no." Dean groaned, rubbing his temples. She was already giving him a headache.

"Darn tootin'." Gail nodded. "You're my charge, I can't leave you unattended. Oh, it's going to be so much fun." She clapped her hands together in mock glee, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "We'll sleep together, go to the restroom together, hell if you're lucky maybe we'll even bathe together! We're gonna be closer than bosom buddies! The best of friends! I will always be beside you, ready to give me complete and honest opinion."

"In other words she's turning you into her butt monkey, Dean." Sam said with an easy smile. It was sort of nice to see his brother so easily unsettled by a woman. One he was in no way attracted to.

"It will be a fun and interesting ride." She smiled.

"And I'm going to hate every last minute of it." Dean growled. What would he have to do to get this woman to leave him alone?

It was in that moment that Bobby received a call. "Hello?"

"Bobby?" It was the voice of old man Rufus on the other line. The Hunter that Dean had spoken too before his deal came due and he was dragged down to hell. Rufus was one of the only men that Dean knew of who had shaken loose from a demon deal. But the old black hunter had paid a terrible price for that freedom, one he had not divulged. In any event, Dean had not broken free of his deal like the cagey older hunter and went to hell. But this time the tables were turned; it was Rufus who was in trouble now. "Bobby can you hear me?"

Over the static there was sounds of heavy breathing and gunshots.

"I can't hear you." Bobby said into his cell.

"I…need… little help…" Came through. "Seems I'm up to my ass in demons. The whole town is infested." Rufus's voice came out quick and breathless, he was clearly tired, and he sounded strained. "Hang on…just hang on…"

"Where are you?" Bobby all but shouted into the phone.

"…Colorado…" Came through the phone.

"Colorado?" Bobby asked. "Where in Colorado?" The static was almost too thick for him to make out the words, but Bobby finally made out the name of the town. "River Pass? River Pass, Colorado?"

"River Pass!' Rufus shouted.

"Rufus?" Bobby asked. "Are you there?" He could barely hear any voice over all the static. "Rufus?"

"Bobby there's—"

The last thing Bobby heard through the phone was the sound of a shotgun being fired at close range. Moments later everything was gone and the phone only buzzed with static. Then the line went dead. Bobby stared at the phone for a few seconds, the concerned gazes of both Winchesters on him and Gail Olivia Sparks watching them with ambivalence, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Guess that means we're going to River Pass." Dean said after several moments of silence. "See what's goin' down and figure out how to yank Rufus's ass out of the fire."

"Oh yay," Gail sighed. "A road trip. I call shotgun!" Sam and Dean stared at her in disbelief, their mouths partially gaping as they gazed at her small round face. "What?" She asked. "Don't you employ the ancient and decisive method of the shotgun call?"

Dean shook his head vigorously. He hated the idea of bringing her with them. _But she might actually be handy in a fight._ "Fine, fine," he grumbled. "Town full of demons should give you a good chance to prove yourself."

"Prove myself," she snorted. "You want me to prove myself?' She began laughing, gripping her stomach as she barreled over, her eyes growing wet with tears. "Me? Ha!"

Dean wondered why she found that comment so funny. She was the stranger in the group, she was the one who had to prove whether or not she had the chops for the job. Her earlier beat down of them could have been a fluke, though Dean wasn't entirely sure where she'd gotten the sword or where it had gone. He knew he'd have to ask her about that. "Whatever," he sighed. "And you're riding in the back."

"Well that's a bit callous, don't you think?" She said. "And you would dishonor the shotgun tradition in the same breath? What kind of foul monster are you?"

"I could ask the same." Dean grumbled.

"Sam?" Gail turned to his brother, widening her eyes and linking her hands woefully behind her back. She tilted her head to the side and stared up at him. Her eyes shifted for a moment and met his, brown on brown, and something passed between them. "Would you deny me shotgun?"

"Uh, no, I mean, sure." Sam stuttered. His heart was suddenly racing and he was sweating. All of a sudden he found her very charming and attractive. Who was he to deny what she wanted? Sam swallowed and shook his head. He stared at her in shock. What had she done to him? "You can sit in front."

"Yay!" She smiled, smacking him on the arm. "You're a real pal. See you boys outside!"

"Wait!" Dean yelled as he followed her. "I'm the driver and I say you're sitting in the back." Bewildered, Sam hurried after them after saying a quick goodbye to Bobby. He was sorry that the old man wouldn't be going with them, but knew it was better this way.

Bobby watched, irritated and depressed as the three left. Finally, after they'd disappeared down the hall, he wheeled himself around to stare out the window. "Those boys are doomed." He sighed, shaking his head. It wasn't the demons awaiting them that he feared, but their traveling companion. "Completely doomed."

* * *

**A/N:** A long chapter, very long, these characters just seemed to run away with me this time. I don't know what to say, but I hoped you enjoyed it.

Thank you for reading.

Please review.

Feed the muse!


	7. Chapter 7: A Crazy Girl Explains Things

**Chapter Seven: A Crazy Girl Explains Some Things**

_There is an old saying here in the Borderlands: "Better to have one woman on your side than ten men."_

-al'Lan Mandragoran, Wheel of Time

The darkness of the road stretched out before them as the 1967 Chevy Impala raced across the flatlands. Tiny stars, those strong enough to fight man's light polluting cities, past the blazing neon signs, the golden arches of McDonald's, the ever present flickering of office buildings, their employees staying late and feverishly trying to finish their work; peered down across the sweeping cornfields of Nebraska and the lone car blazing down the backwater highways towards the mountainous Rockies in the state of Colorado. The moon was half full and at its apex in the dark sky, it hung high above them, almost invisible to the Impala's passengers. Its light was outshined by bright yellow high beams that cut a swath across the blackness of the road.

In the car there was a driver and two passengers. Two men and a girl. Committed to social conventions, the eldest of the two men was the driver and the girl sat upfront. The driver was Dean Winchester and the owner of the 1967 Chevy. Tapping on the wheel in silence, he listened to the sounds of the road. Dean had magnanimously turned off the radio and tape player so that his passengers could get a decent night's sleep. Of course, he had done this for his brother, not the girl who had manipulated her way into sitting next to him. _Or whatever the hell she did to Sam._ He wasn't sure if he believed her story. _Yeah but Cas believed it._ The more traitorous portion of his mind suggested. _And how often do angels get taken for a ride?_

Dean wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to that question. Silently, he glanced over at her. She still didn't make any sense. _But she's clearly the split personality kind of crazy._ And she had, somehow, managed to take both him and his brother down. _Yeah, well, we'll see about next time._ Dean would be ready for her if she tried that stunt again. Dean frowned, wishing he could drive with gun in hand, just in case. She'd said she was there to protect him but Dean wasn't sure how far that protection extended. She clearly wasn't any kind of normal.

He let out a long-suffering sigh, catching glimpses of Gail Olivia Sparks' dark hair. Her head was turned away from him, her forehead pressed against the cold glass. If she'd been an average girl, Dean would have found her rather pretty. Her dark eyes were large like a fawn's in a small oval face, her cheekbones were high and her mouth was pert, her lower lip slightly fuller than her upper. When she wasn't grinning, it seemed to be cast in a permanent pout. The bridge of her nose was curved, British in shape, ending in a round, almost ruddy button. The tip bent downwards just slightly. Her black lashes were long and framed dreamy eyes that often went out of focus, like she was listening to a voice no one else could hear. Gail was short, barely taller than five foot three inches. It was an odd height for a Caucasian. Yes, she would have been attractive if she was a normal girl. But she wasn't. She was strangely cosmic. Oddly though, she didn't give off the same sort of unnerving feeling that he got from the angels. With them it was easy to tell that they weren't human, had never been human even when they wore the bodies.

_Talking to angels is like talking to aliens._ Dean thought as he considered Gail's behavior. _But in the end they're basically straightforward._ Gail was not. It was odd; her actions seemed human, felt human. It was deceptive and made Dean doubt her story. _How can someone that human not be human?_ He forced his eyes back onto the road, lost in thought. _And she's just so damn irritating!_ He'd thought Castiel was a major pain in the ass to talk to. All Gail had done since meeting him was mock Dean to hell and back. _And she did something to Sam._ He was sure of that. _When we left Bobby behind in the hospital, Gail looked at Sammy and asked him to give up the front seat. Sam was going to say no, then he said yes almost immediately after their eyes met and he's been sappy ever since._ Gail had also said that she'd healed Bobby, but Bobby still couldn't walk. Gail had told them that the healing took time but the angels could heal someone in half a second, so why couldn't she? Dean didn't believe her. _Did she lie to us and Bobby to win some goodwill?_ Dean wouldn't put it past her to be so underhanded. Thinking furiously, he tore his eyes from the empty, black, straight line of the road and stared at the back of Gail's head. He hated to admit it but he was curious. He needed to know what she'd done, what she knew. _What she did to Sam._ What if it was harmful? Well, Sam could certainly do with a little harm, but it would be _Dean_ who handed it out not some random girl. He checked the clock.

It was 12:53. There was no way she'd still be awake. But still, he was unable to hold his questions in any longer. He had to know. He had to figure out some way to make her tell him. Calmly, he lifted his hand and reached for her shoulder, opening his mouth. But before he could, she spoke.

"I'm awake." Was the terse reply. "You don't need to touch me."

Dean paused, his hand hanging motionless in the air. He felt an embarrassed flush rising to his cheeks and he was glad for the darkness as it hid it away. There was a moment of silence as Dean straightened and looked back at the road. He waited impatiently, his back muscles twitching as he glanced back at her still form. She'd sounded grouchy and Dean found that he couldn't hold it against her. _I wouldn't want some stranger touching me in the middle of the night._ Dean blinked, horrified. As far as he was concerned she was the enemy, she needed to be watched. He was not going to feel sympathy for her.

Resettling, he checked the back mirror to see if they'd woken Sam. They hadn't. His brother's long lanky form was still slumped against the side door. Sam's neck was craned forward, a limp forelock of dark brown hair pressed limply against his forehead. He was sweating. The car was hot. Quickly, Dean's fingers fled towards the temperature knob and he saw the heater on the highest setting, going at full blast. It was late September and the outside was cold, still it wasn't so cold that he needed to roast the Impala's insides. As Dean turned down the temperature, he thought he heard a soft sigh of relief from his right. He hadn't thought that she could keep any opinions to herself.

_Has she been awake this whole time?_

Dean looked back at the girl. Her body was swathed in shadow. He wondered which one he was talking to. Dean still wasn't clear on how the whole split personality thing worked. Though, for the record, she hadn't bothered to explain it to him. Maybe it was time she included that answer among the others he needed. Frowning at her, he yanked his head away to stare at black asphalt and the reflective yellow dividing line. His hazel eyes searching the darkness for any other signs of life, he thought he saw the lights of a far off farmhouse but it was quickly lost within the stalks of the cornfields. He didn't like being ordered around. Dean Winchester was the one in charge and it was time that Gail Olivia Sparks learned that. _Or she's out on the road._ He smiled at the thought of her hitchhiking all the way to River Pass, Colorado. Dean groaned at the silence, if she wouldn't elaborate then he would force her into a conversation. He turned to her again.

"You gonna talk?" He asked. "Or are you gonna just sit there like a lump?" He watched her start, thought he saw her shoulders stiffen in the darkness, then she lifted her head off of the glass. Gail's head turned towards him, but Dean couldn't read her expression, it was lost in the shadows. He couldn't help himself, feeling triumphant over her movements, he added. "So, you are awake."

"Duh." Gail replied.

Dean made his eyes look at the road, but in his peripheral vision he watched her sit up and stretch. She yawned hugely like a cat, her arms up over her head as high as the Impala's ceiling would allow. Gail's hair whisked around her cheeks as she leaned back against the door and twisted her body so that she could stare at him comfortably. Her eyes flashed in the darkness and Dean thought he saw her mouth pull into a small smile. But both vanished quickly into the ever-moving shadows and he found that he couldn't be sure. _Is she irritated or amused?_ Did it even matter?

"Don't sleep well in cars, huh?" He asked. Inside, he was pleased at her discomfort. He couldn't keep his sense of enjoyment out of his tone. She'd mocked him and turnabout was only fair play. "Cause we'll be doing a lot of this." He smiled. "That's a hunter's life." He listened to her sigh, almost breathing in her irritation and his smile widened. He had her on something.

"It's not cars." Gail said. She looked away from him and back out into the cornfields, her elbow propping itself up against the edge of the window, her chin plopping into her palm. One leg crossed over the other and her shoulders wriggled as she cracked her neck. "I just don't sleep." She paused and then shrugged. "Not well anyway."

Dean blinked. What did she mean by that? "You don't—"

"Sleep." She finished. "No. Too many nightmares," she sounded wry as she spoke and Dean felt like she wasn't really talking to him. For a moment, Dean wished the mocking Gail would return. This Gail seemed not sad, but accepting. Like this was a normal part of her life. "And too many memories that become nightmares. So no, I don't sleep. I haven't really," she sighed. "Not for a long time. Not since…" She trailed off and then paused, as if remembering where she was. She lifted her head and looked back at him. "You have questions." Hers was not. He opened his mouth but before he could ask, she shook her head. "Of course you do." Her left hand rose as her index finger tapped against her lower lip. "Let me guess," she pursed her mouth. "You want to know about the angels, about Michael, maybe even about Lucifer." She shrugged. "And you want to know about me, where I fit into this whole mess. What I am, am I dangerous, can I be trusted? Why I'm so odd, how does the whole split personality thing work? Where did I come from? How did the angels find me? Why did they pick me? How can you stop the end of the world?"

He felt her eyes boring into the side of his head but he refused to look at her, this hadn't been how he pictured the conversation going. Dean wanted to be in control, wanted to show her who was boss. He wanted her to answer the questions he chose, not the ones she felt like answering. His mouth set into a thin, firm line as he listened to her. His anger was boiling in his belly, soon he imagined, steam would be shooting out his ears.

"Am I getting warmer?" She asked. "Or colder? I'm probably in the ballpark."

He watched her pearly teeth flash in the darkness. They weren't crooked. Her parents clearly had been able to afford a dentist and braces. That meant she'd probably come from money. From her accent he guessed California, maybe upper middle class. The way she spoke was cultured, educated, more like Sammy than like him. He heard a hint of another accent in her syllables but he couldn't place it. Perhaps one of her parents had been a foreigner. That would make her first generation on one side. Dean's eyes narrowed. He'd spent enough time on the road to learn this kind of detective work, though it wasn't usually very useful in his field. He'd always been more than a little rough around the edges but he wasn't stupid. Not the way she seemed to think he was. _I'm going to figure you out, you little bitch._ He thought, his frown deepening. _Just you wait._ She was a mystery and both Dean and his brother were good at solving those. _I'm gonna knock you off that high horse and down into reality._ He'd known people like her, people who thought they were better for some reason or another. Dean knew he was arrogant but he hated being judged.

"No." He growled. "You struck out."

"Really?" He heard the rueful smile in her voice and felt his back stiffen. Why couldn't she behave the way she was supposed to? "Then, pray tell, what was it you wanted to know?"

"Sam." Dean snapped. "I want to know what sort of mind whammy you or the other you put on him." He took a deep breath, his fingers tightening around the wheel. "And I want to know which you I'm talking to."

"Well," she shrugged. "To answer the second question first, you're talking to me."

Dean gritted his teeth. She was playing games with him. Somehow, he wasn't surprised. _Just my luck that she's the one with all the answers._ The kind that he needed to make sense of why his brother had been staring at her with starry eyes. "Yeah? Which me?"

"You honestly can't tell?" Gail laughed, her hands clapping together in amusement. She was enjoying this. Dean suppressed a growl. She was enjoying watching his confusion. "Are you dumber than I thought? Cause, you know, the differences between us are pretty distinct and the changes _are_ fairly obvious. Which is why anyone with more than five or ten brain cells should easily be able to tell—"

"Gail!" He snapped.

His voice rose higher than he'd expected, the sharp tone cutting through the quiet air. So far they'd both been speaking in a low register, just above a whisper. Dean hadn't wanted Sam to wake during his interrogation, especially not if his brother was still under some kind of spell. Behind them, he heard his brother snort, sit up, and shift. Dean held his breath and noticed, surprised, that Gail was doing the same. Her eyes were focused on the mirror and his brother; an odd look was present in them. Sam mumbled something neither could hear and then flopped back against the cool glass of the window. Dean heard Gail giggle. He glanced at her and realized that she was grinning.

Gail stretched again, her palms touching the soft, fuzzy velvet lining of the ceiling. Her fingers were intertwined together as she yawned, pushing her back forwards and hearing her spine pop a few vertebrae back into place. Finished, she dropped her arms and looked at him. "Got it one." She said, her voice blithe and Dean felt himself frowning over the smugness in her expression.

"So, I'm talking to Gail?" He asked. Just to make sure.

She sighed once again and flopped back against her seat. "Yes," she grumbled. "You, my retarded charge, are talking to me, Gail Olivia Sparks, the interface and host of the almighty Mace, Eternal extraordinaire." Dean sensed that she was joking at his expense again but he still felt his lips twitch. He felt her eyes find his and he was surprised by the seriousness that was suddenly in them. "Mace…" Gail paused. "Mace wouldn't explain this to you," she said. "Mace would just laugh in your face…" She drifted off, her dark eyes going hazy again. "Or kill you….No, maybe torture you first because you're really annoying and then kill you and wander off. You're really lucky that our system is broken the way it is," her smile was odd but not quite sad. "I have a higher tolerance for stupidity, ignorance, and asshole behavior." Her eyes flicked back up to his face, her expression vanishing once again within the twisting shadows. "Not much higher though."

Dean forced himself to swallow, his throat dry. He was about to remind her that the angels needed him alive and they wouldn't be pleased if he died, but he didn't. _I get the feeling that she's telling the truth._ He realized, surprising himself. He wasn't one to hold back on his opinions but there was something about what she'd said that sent a chill down his spine. The pit of his stomach was a cold knot and hotheaded as he was, he knew it would be best to move the conversation to safer waters. He had too many questions and only a limited time before they crossed the border into Colorado and lost themselves in a demon invasion.

"What did you do to Sam?"

There was another momentary pause as Gail glanced back at Sam. Hurriedly, her tongue coursed over her upper lip, wetting it as her mouth twitched. She clearly thought something was funny but Dean doubted that she'd let him in on the joke. There was no guilt in her eyes just good humor. "I spiked him."

"Spiked?" The term wasn't familiar to Dean.

"Yeah," she nodded. "It was something I did reflexively for a long time, eventually I learned to control it. But before that it was sort of a…" she paused. "A form of self-defense." Slowly, she tapped the side of her temple as if considering something. Her eyes had gone out of focus again and she wasn't looking at him. Dean was sure she was remembering and saw to his surprise that her lips formed a wry smile. "It was an odd joke, I guess, cause it started more problems than it solved."

Dean tapped the wheel impatiently. "What does this, this spiking do?" He cursed himself for using her silly word. The whole thing sounded more than a little ridiculous. _But what in your life doesn't these days?_ Dean swatted away the traitorous thought with a growl.

"It does just what it says," Gail said. "It spikes, er, heightens your emotional response in the areas that simulate attraction and love to, I guess, maximum levels. The subject," she swallowed. "I suppose you'd want scientific terms even if you're not a science sort of guy?" As usual she didn't wait for his response as she continued on. "The subject immediately feels a deep emotional bond with the caster, it's only simulated, of course, because the effect isn't long lasting. But they believe that they are more than in love, that the caster is the one and only person for them. Or something, I wouldn't know," she shrugged. "It's never happened to _me_."

"And you did this to Sam?" Dean asked. He was more than a little horrified.

"Oh, don't get your boxers in a twist Winchester." Gail said with a flip of her hand. "I said it wears off, didn't I? No harm done. He just shoved off balance for a bit, he'll be right as rain by morning."

"And you did this to him?" Dean asked. He felt cold inside. Gail didn't feel that what she'd done to Sam was wrong. She sounded flippant about it, like manipulating another person's emotions in such an extreme way wasn't a big deal. He remembered the context in which it had happened. "So you could sit in the front?"

"I really hate the back."

All his life, Dean had met evil monsters that looked like people but all of them had a reason for doing what they did. Gail hadn't. Well, not a good one by Dean's standards. "You stupid, selfish bitch!" Dean snarled, clenching the wheel and resisting the urge to slap her across the face. He'd never hit a normal human woman, though he'd killed a few that had monsters inside of them. "If you were a—"

"Yes, yes, you'd kill me for abusing my abilities for something so minor." Gail yawned. "I've done worse things than this." She looked at him and for a moment, Dean thought he saw pity. Why did she pity him? "And to people I was closer to than you or Sam." A look crossed her face, a dark one that sent another chill up Dean's spine. He didn't like her. He really didn't like her. But it was gone by the next time she spoke. "Besides, I only do it when I want to now." She smiled. "What better way to hide than from someone who believes he's in love with you? They get distracted, they don't look to deeply and by the time they realize something strange is going on, I'm gone." Her eyes narrowed in the gloom. "Like I said, no harm done."

"We're heading into a mess of demons!" Dean nearly yelled. "If Sam's going to survive he needs to be focused!"

"Why?" She asked. "You don't plan on using him or me." Gail tilted her head to the side. "You don't trust us."

"Yeah I don't!" Dean growled. "You're—"

"Monsters." Her voice had gone cold and Dean blinked. That had been what he was about to say. He looked back and searched for Gail's eyes, they were hard as flint in the darkness. "Don't try my patience Dean, so far I've been nice." Somehow her eyes managed to harden even more. "You don't want me to get nasty."

Dean sucked in a heady breath. His heart had begun to beat a little more rapidly. He wasn't afraid of her. He wasn't. He'd seen worse. "I've stared down angels and demons." He growled. "And honey, they're a hell of a lot more scary than you!"

"Right now, I'm still being good, Dean Winchester." Gail said, her voice was soft but still friendly but the smile on her lips didn't reach her eyes. Dean had once had a very similar conversation with Castiel. "I haven't harmed you. But I could. Mace and me? We're not your pets like Castiel." Dean would have disagreed with that Castiel was his friend, not his pet or his servant. "The angels' leash isn't a choke collar and the only thing that stops Mace from playing with you is me. You've irritated him, er, her enough that torturing you to death doesn't sound so bad before she leaves your body to the vultures. Don't ask me what she'd do to your soul."

"You're just a little girl." Dean snapped.

"You should know enough to know that little girls can be very scary." Gail's eyes met his knowingly and Dean felt memories of Lillith shriek through him. "I'm your protection Dean, don't make me protect you from you."

Dean watched her smile grow wicked. He had more defiance in him. His mouth a cold line, he glared at the road. They rode in silence for a long time after that.

_I still need answers._ Dean thought. _And she's the only one whose got them. I can't ask Cas, he's pretty pissed at me right now. She's the only one and she's pissed._ Dean hated her at the moment, he hated the world ending, he hated being shoved into this position. _I'm not going to beg!_ Then he heard the traitor side, the side that always sounded like Sam, of his brain whisper. _You don't have much of a choice. You can either sit here like an idiot or you can apologize. You're not going to get anywhere just seething, Dean._ Dean hissed. _Maybe we can teach her the error of her ways?_ Now that really did sound like Sam. Dean shook his head and looked at Gail. She was staring out at the road, her back was to him. She didn't seem to be much in the mood to be talking either. _She's pretty pissed at me._ There was a tired sigh. _You insulted her, Dean. You called her a monster. How did you think she'd react?_ Dean growled. _But she is. She's the exact kind of thing I hunt and I'm not making peace with her or her super powered inner self!_ There was another sigh at the back of his brain. _You don't have a choice._ Dean hated rationality and he hated Sam for putting him in this position and he hated his brother for being stupid enough to believe a demon and for breaking the world. But most of all, he hated having to give an insincere apology. _Stupid bitch._

"I'm sorry." Dean finally croaked. "If I, uh, offended you." He glanced at Gail and felt as if the words were being wrenched out of his throat with a crowbar. "But I don't take well to being threatened."

"Welcome to the world." Gail replied. "And get over it." She sighed and Dean saw real pity on her features. "Dean," she paused and shook her head. "Winchester, no one higher up really cares about the way you feel or what you think. They're angels and that's the way it is, the way they are. You just have to learn to live with being bossed around."

"And you?"

"They boss me around too. And I do it, well, I'm not sure why I do it but I do." She sighed again. "They don't ask me either or Mace, they tell, they demand, and they order. They are stuck up, arrogant, sons of bitches and for the most part, they believe man serves them and not the other way around." She nodded. "And for the most part that's true. Man does. You and your brother broke the world. You have to live with the consequences. I'm sorry, that's just the way things are."

Dean felt a little better hearing that the angels didn't just ride him hard. That he and Sam weren't the only ones on the angels shit list. "So, they're like that with everybody?"

"Every damn blessed creature in creation." Gail replied. She looked at him, her eyes changing once again. "You shouldn't have done what you did."

"I said I'm sorry!" Dean snapped. "But you're not a peach to live with either!"

"Not me, dodo." Gail sighed. "Him." She jerked her thumb back over her shoulder at Sam. "The blood addiction?" Gail asked when she saw no recognition on Dean's face. "Making him go cold turkey?"

"Okay," Dean said. "One, how do you know about that? Two, I don't get how what we did was a bad thing. The demon blood was killing him, making him…"

"Different?" Gail asked. She cocked an eyebrow at him. "The answer to your first question is that while I couldn't sleep I was reading over your files." She tapped her chest. "The shard gives me direct access to Pinnacles databases and Mace, as an Eternal, has one of the highest clearance levels. Only the angels are higher. So I can see pretty much whatever." She paused. "Of course it isn't in English, instead it's in some sort of ancient cuneiform…"

"Cuneiform?" Dean asked. He was surprised. "Not Latin or Hebrew?"

"Christ no!" Gail laughed. She shook her head. "Anyway, to read it I have to run the text through a translation filter and that gets dicey, so I really only read the last paragraph." She shrugged. "Your file's barely more than two pages long."

Finally, it dawned on Dean. "I have a file?"

"Sure you do." Gail sighed. "Everybody who matters in any way shape or form does and that information is accessible to anybody with a shard." She threw up her hands. "Though why anyone would want to go through a few boring pages is beyond me."

"I have a file." Dean repeated, awed in spite of himself. The whole conversation was heading in a strange direction.

"Don't be slow." Gail snapped.

"So you know?"

"I know about the whole blood addiction thing. That much I could smell on him. He reeks of it." She closed her fingers over her nose, delicately, to make a point. "The Ruby thing too, and the Sixty-Six seals. Tough break."

"You don't know how tough." Dean sighed.

"Oh, I've got a pretty good idea." Gail shook her head. "You act like this is Mace's first apocalypse, I'm pretty sure I mentioned that it wasn't."

"You did."

"Clearly the message didn't sink in then."

Dean decided to change tactics. "I don't want to talk about Sam or his blood addiction. Sam's putting it behind him. He's clean."

"He's not clean." Gail said. "And you were so damn lucky."

"What do you mean?" Dean stared at her, surprised. He knew he shouldn't be, but he was. He needed to stop underestimating her, judging her on what he thought she knew or didn't know. Dean knew he should, but somehow he just kept making the same old mistake. He didn't even know how to stop.

"You made him go cold turkey, locked him in a room, let him hallucinate." Gail leaned forward. "Blood addiction is a serious thing, Dean. Blood magic itself is intensely chaotic and the changes it makes in a spell or on a person are often permanent. I could explain all night about the magic, but we'll just focus on the addiction." She lifted a finger. "One, you two idiots are probably talking about it like demon blood is the only thing you can get addicted to. It's not. All blood is addictive, especially when someone is consuming it for power. Just ask all those wanna-be vampires out there, the Sanguines. If they're not feeling the effects yet they will and when they do," a cold smile spread from ear to ear. "It's going to be absolutely hilarious."

"Get to the point!" Dean snapped. He was getting the impression that her idea of funny was the exact opposite of his.

"Blood itself can lead the user to insanity and death, even without taking a person off of it. That's the eventual conclusion. The inevitable one." She tapped her cheek. "I suppose the old saying here applies, you are what you eat. If you consume the blood of another human, nothing much will happen to you. The banality of it is so strong, I mean, you'll get addicted but it'll take longer. Anything else, you take on it's basic characteristic. Like say you were drinking the blood of a fey, all it would take is one drink and everyone would go insane. Immediately. Because that's what the fey are, chaos and madness incarnate. If you drink their blood, you will become mad like them. There are some exceptions to the rules, like vampires but we're only talking about humans."

"Sam was drinking demon blood—"

"And so became more like a demon." Gail's mouth twitched. "Though I have my doubts about these 'demons', they seem more like a weird kind of hellspawn to me."

"And if he drank your blood?"

"Probably would get really, really, really, really angry." Gail said after a momentary pause. "Then it would overload him and he'd shit bricks and die. Or something like that. Eternals don't let people feed off them. That's just the way it is."

Dean swallowed. "You paint such a pretty picture."

"I know," Gail smiled. "I'm the bright spot in hell. But blood cults of any kind are a bad idea, especially since most idiots don't know how to dispel the effects. And I'm betting that neither you nor Sam ever studied Magic 101, the rules and the laws and the kinds. Probably a bad idea to neglect that aspect of the training." She glanced at him and shrugged. "Just saying."

"I get it!" Dean snapped. "Bad idea! How do you cure it?"

"I don't know." She admitted, staring out into the darkness. "I don't know if it's the sort of thing that can be fixed or healed. I suppose that now he's been cleaned out, if he has a strong will he shouldn't go back. But that's more hope than fact." She turned her head and shrugged once more. "There's a lot of stuff I know Dean and a lot I don't. Keeps my head from exploding or me turning into a human vegetable. The human mind can only know so much and unlike the angels, Mace was born in a human body instead of possessing one. The drawback is that while it makes one practically undetectable, you are not born knowing everything. There will be much you'll never remember and most of it isn't relevant anyway."

"So the angels—"

"Everyone except humans know that they're about, the same is probably true with your demon friends. They don't try to hide themselves, they're just big broadcasting beacons saying: here I am." She chuckled. "But then, who's really gonna mess with an angel? Really? Unless you want to turn into chunky salsa real quick, most just avoid them. That's the smart thing."

Dean nodded, he could see the logic in that statement. For the moment he was done with questions and he said nothing else. Gail was more than happy to lapse back into silence as they continued down the road, growing ever closer to River Pass, Colorado and the hunt that awaited them there.

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry it's taken so long, I've been having some really severe writers block. Seriously, I couldn't write anything. It was so frustrating. But now... I think... I'll be able to write more. But I started school again, so updates will be stilted. I'm sorry, I just need to pass this semester.

Remember to review!


	8. Chapter 8: Argue, Argue, Argue

**Chapter Eight:** **Argue, Argue, Argue**

_Nietzsche said the bravest thing a man can do is to gather his loved ones around him and take his own life before time and disease have a chance to lay him waste. If one cannot live ferociously ... why live? The only real question is should we wait until life has proven to us how disappointing it is? Or should we cheerfully charge toward whatever awaits us on the other side of death? Presuming it cannot be worse than this. If one studies the rich and successful one cannot help recognizing their path leads not to happiness. With apologies to those who will miss me, wouldn't you rather see me free-falling among the stars than chained to a life which only invokes my disdain, or even worse - my apathy_

-Witchblade, The Series

**Rock Springs, Colorado**

The 1967 Chevy Impala came to a halt on a bridge just a few miles outside of Rock Springs, Colorado. The air surrounding both the car and its passengers was quiet. There were no birdcalls, no rustling in the foliage, even the breeze seemed to have fled. Below the shallow, rocky river made no sound as it flowed over the rocks. The world was deadly still. Silent. The bridge itself had been wrenched in two. The Impala stopping just as the road came to an end. A mass of twisting metal reached out on either side of the railing. Below it lay the remains of the concrete byway. The broken piece crushed inward, creating a slide down into the low ravine.

Car doors slammed as Dean, Sam, and Gail stepped out into the sunshine. Overhead the sky was clear with only a few puffy white clouds drifting across it. Besides the battered bridge and the silence, it was a lovely day. Arms crossed over her chest, Gail looked first from Dean's face and then back at Sam. The younger Winchester moved up to stand beside her, looking out across the river and towards the mesh of trees that hid the town from view. Rock Springs was remote, miles away from any major city and nested deep within the mountainous regions of the Colorado Rockies. Gail moved to lean against the hood of the Impala as Dean kicked a loose piece of concrete over the edge.

"This is the only road in or out." He said.

Across from him, Sam lifted up his cell phone to check the area. "No signal."

Calmly, he switched it off and glanced back over his shoulder at Gail. Her face was impassive, her arms crossed over her chest. He noticed the dark bags beneath her eyes. She wasn't watching either of them. He wondered why he felt nothing now. Last night, he'd found her incredibly attractive, like she was the only one he could ever imagine being with. Now, nothing. He supposed she was pretty, in a dreamy sort of way. In the light, he noticed what he hadn't see before. Her jeans were stained with huge splotches around her knees and up her thighs. They hung loosely around her hips, like she'd been wearing them for a long time. The blue, scoop neck tank top she was wearing was rumpled and there were spots of dirt around where it ended at her waist. Her brown jacket was a bit too large for her and dwarfed her already small body. _She looks road weary, like she's been traveling for a while._

He compared her attire to his own level of mess and found it similar. He too was wearing yesterday's green button down shirt and light brown jacket over loose fitting jeans. He was just as sure that there were heavy circles under his eyes, having slept the night in the car. His neck was sore and his back muscles hurt from sitting for so long. His dark brown hair was oily and stayed off his face without any effort. If his hair was clean it would have hung over his forehead and he would have had to fight with it, to keep it out of his eyes. He preferred it like this. Sam wasn't necessarily clean but he was battle ready. He just hoped that Gail was the same.

"Rufus was right," Dean said after another minute, breaking Sam out of his reverie. He realized that Gail was looking at him, a single eyebrow raised. Flushing, he looked away. "Demons have got this place locked down tight."

Gail looked away from Sam, her dark eyes scanning the trees and the road. Her gaze was thoughtful. Sucking in her lower lip, she chewed on it as she leaned against the car. To Sam, she didn't even seem to be looking at the image across the broken bridge, but beyond it and he was surprised that she wasn't contributing to the conversation. Why wasn't she being her normal, irritating self? Did she feel something dangerous lurking on the horizon? Something neither he nor his brother could sense?

When she continued to say nothing, Sam shook his head and stared out at the mess of pine trees. Their thick trunks blocked most of the view, except for the swath cut out by the road. Sam wondered if it was possible to see the sky when one was beneath the dense cover of branches. He hated the feeling of sap in his hair. Dismayed with the new understanding that they'd be traveling the rest of the way on foot, he groaned. Sighing loudly, he shifted his hands into his pockets. "Looks like we're hiking in."

Feeling his brother's pain and sharing it, Dean said. "And the hits just keep on coming." Turning away, the older Winchester was trying to forget about the very strange girl who was standing just behind him to his left. Personally, he hoped that she would continue to not contribute. Gail was very vocal and she wasn't at all shy about voicing her opinions. He knew it was only a matter of time before she started mocking him again. He was just hoping that she could keep a leash on her tongue for the entire time they were in Rock Springs. Dean was sure he probably wouldn't be that lucky.

"Why are we here?" Gail's crisp voice cut through the moment of silence and Dean felt his back stiffen.

He wasn't that lucky.

Both Dean and Sam glanced at her, startled. Of all the questions they'd been expecting, this wasn't it.

"What?" Sam asked. He was staring down at her, his six-foot height towering over her five foot three frame. His soft brown eyes were wide with surprise.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean growled at the same time. Why couldn't she just leave him in peace? Better yet, why couldn't she just leave? "Are you a moron?"

"No," Gail said. Placidly, she zipped up her coat and stuffed her hands deep into the pockets of her jacket. Her nostrils quivered for a slow moment as the end of her nose became a faint red. Then she sneezed. Loudly. Jerking up, her eyes jumped from one face to the other. "I'm asking why we're here."

"Are you cold?" Sam asked. He'd noticed that the mountain air was a bit chilly, but he was so layered in his own clothing that it didn't really bother him. Sam didn't really get cold, not unless it was really cold. He watched, even more surprised as she shook her head. _But, her behavior suggests that she is actually cold or sick or both._ Did she think he'd think less of her if she didn't act tough? Or was it something else? But Dean was talking over him before he could even ask.

"Did you fall down?" Dean asked. His voice was snide and filled with false sympathy. "Hit your head? Or is your short term memory just that bad?" He didn't like Gail and their conversation the night before had done little to improve his first impressions. "We're here to help Rufus and stop demons."

"Yes," Gail sighed. "I'd already gathered the motive for what we were doing back at the hospital, Dingo." She leaned back against the hood of the car, her lips twisting into a crooked smile. "I am, contrary to popular opinion, not stupid. It's the connection I'm failing to understand. How this fits in with your mission."

"Rufus is a hunter," Sam explained, his voice patient. "He's helped us out in the past."

"He's a friend of Bobby's and he needs help." Dean added, stiffly. "Plus, sugar cakes, we owe him."

"But helping a friend of Bobby's is not your mission." Gail said. Tilting her head to the side, she gazed at them with large liquid brown eyes. Tucking a loose strand of hair back behind her ear, she frowned. "Stopping this apocalypse is. You guys were so hot to kill the Devil back at the hospital. This," she lifted a finger and pointed down the road. "Doesn't get you anywhere near your goal. Don't you want to save the world?"

"We are going to stop the apocalypse." Dean snapped.

"We do." Sam said at the same time. He glanced at Dean as his brother rolled his eyes and stomped away. Sam watched his brother disappear behind the Impala and listed to the click as he unlocked the trunk. A pang had struck his heart as she questioned his commitment. The guild that had been hounding him sine Ruby had revealed her endgame, had tricked him into opening the last seal, came spilling out of it's cage. Sam knew that he and Dean had to fix what they'd broken. They had to save the world. Sam just wasn't sure how they were supposed to do it.

Gail's eyebrows rose mockingly as she looked at him. "You say that," she said. "But you and Dean seem to be taking as many detours as humanly possible. For instance," she snapped her fingers. "Being here gets you no closer to Lucifer. No closer to saving the human race." Gail looked up at the sky, her eyes wistful. She pursed her lips in thought. "Well, humanity is already fucked and enough has changed for it to be on its way to extinction. There's no helping that. If we didn't kill you, you'd just kill each other."

"That's—"

"You do realize that you've only got a small window right?" Gail asked, leaning forward and peering up at him. Silently, she brushed the strands that hand escaped her ears back into place with slim fingers. "I mean, for god's sake! Look how far it's already gone downhill. You're no closer to Lucifer and there's not a lot of time left before the change is irreversible, not that I care whether or not it's reversed, but you seem to. So, why are you wasting it here?"

Behind them, Dean slammed the trunk shut. Stalking around the back and down past the back seat and passenger side of the Impala, he glared at Gail as he thrust Sam's gear and shotgun into his hands. "First off," he growled. "We're not leaving Rufus to die. You might be heartless enough for that, you probably wouldn't see anything wrong with killing your own mother if given the chance."

He didn't wait to see Gail's entire body stiffen, her mouth tightening into a thin line and her eyes growing hard. But Sam saw her shoulders tense. He'd never seen that before. _What the hell happened with her family?_ The thought struck Sam as odd and he realized that they'd never asked Gail where she'd come from or what happened to her family. But from the way her gaze had become a death glare, Sam was sure that whatever it was, it wasn't sunshine and happiness. _But what with Gail is?_

"That's the way it is, so live with it. Secondly," he growled. "We have no idea where Lucifer is. Thirdly, we have no way to kill him. The Colt was stolen and Sam's fancy knife is only good at the demon killing. So, unless you, oh great freakazoid, have any suggestions on how we do that, we're flying blind." Dean turned toward her, slinging his bag over his shoulder. His handsome face had become a scowling back, his finger twitching on the trigger of his shotgun. "And until we find something, we're gonna kill each and every demonic son of a bitch we come across and we're gonna save as many people as we can!" He stared down into her eyes, ignoring the coldness there. He wasn't going to let her push him around. Wasn't going to let her change his course. He'd already decided on what it was that they would do and by god, they were going to do it! "We're gonna start by finding Rufus and killing these demons. If you've got a problem with that, I don't care! Sit down and shut up!"

Dean barely even noticed that he was flying through the air, and then his back landed on hard concrete. His jaw hurt. It was a gasping sort of pain, but he didn't think it was broken. The shock of being on the ground, on his back kept him in place for a moment. His entire back felt like one massive bruise and it was throbbing. His tailbone hurt. Then it hit him. He wasn't holding his gun. Scrambling, he started to get to his feet. The hard, rubber sole of a shoe slammed down onto his chest, heel digging into his solar plexus and against the fragile mass of bone and cartilage that kept his lungs from collapsing. Looking up into Gail's cold, hard eyes, Dean felt the urge to grab the foot and slam her into the side of the Impala. He didn't see Sam anywhere above him. He started to move his hands and her heel sunk in further, making him stop. He remembered what she'd said in the car. She had no moral compunction against killing him. He forced his hands to lie still.

"First off," Gail began. Her voice had become sardonic as she imitated his tonal inflections and pattern of speech. "I'll talk however I want, whenever I want, and I was being pragmatic not cruel. It's a method of thinking that you should consider adopting, by the way." She tossed her milk chocolate colored brown hair back over her shoulder and snorted. "Secondly, I never suggested actually _killing_ the Devil. That would be pointless. Killing Lucifer is like cutting off the head of a million headed hydra, another one will just take his place, if the head itself doesn't grow back, anyway." Her mouth became an even thinner line, almost disappearing into her face. "Thirdly, killing every demon, monster, or supernatural creature you come across will only slow you down, not get you closer to your goal. And like I said, Dingo, you don't have much time to waste." Dean gasped as her heel dug in further. Why wasn't Sam saying anything? Why wasn't he pointing his gun at her? Why wasn't he forcing her to let Dean up? "As cathartic as I'm sure that is for you. Can you sacrifice hundreds to save billions?" She shook her head. "Somehow, I doubt it."

"Freak!" Dean spat. "The only monster here is you!"

"I am pragmatic, Dean, like Mace. Mace can see more than just the lives in front of him, er," she paused, seeming like a young woman again. "Her. It. Whatever. He knows what costs to stop the world from ending, he's seen it happen, and even done it himself. You don't have that kind of perspective. So, why are you throwing away my thoughtfully given advice?" She shook her head. "Never mind. Fourthly," she held up four fingers. "Stop calling your little hellspawn demons, it's going to give them delusions of grandeur. Well, no, I'm sure they believe they are. But Hell is not just one place, it is made up of many places. I guess your little friends just wound up in a dimension where nothing existed except them and created their own beliefs. It happens. Now, they're being let loose in here and being used as cannon fodder by the higher ups. Sad, I suppose, but they're probably all going to die anyway, so I don't feel that sorry for them."

"You're lying!" Dean snarled. "Anna! An angel, she said—"

"Yes, let's trust what an angels says. They are such upright, moral creatures. So innocent, so wonderful, standing for truth, justice and so on." Gail rolled her eyes. "That old lie is so saccharine that it makes me want to vomit."

"She became human! She wouldn't lie!"

"Oh, well, that makes it all better doesn't it. She gave up her life to become a human. All that means is that she was like me, Dean. She was born into this world instead of skinriding. Probably betrayed her orders to do it too. I'm sure they others have killed her by now. Rogue angels don't last long once they've been found. But you're making a mistake thinking she was ever human. She wasn't."

"I'll trust what I know." Dean growled. "I'm not gonna let you mess with my head."

"You slept with her." Gail's eyebrows rose. "Wow, you really are pathetic. Demons are fallen angels, end of story. Aside from the greater demons, which are their own species of nastiness, anything else that claims to be one is suffering from pretensions." She lifted her foot a little, letting Dean breathe easier. "Oh, and you do know that all angels are programmed male right?" She leaned down lower. "That means that sleeping with her, would be like sleeping with me if Mace was in charge. Not much difference. Lastly, before I let you up, was that flight as glorious as it looked?"

Dean spat. Chuckling, Gail lifted off her foot and turned away from him, walking down the line of the car and towards the edge of the bridge. Getting up, Dean brushed himself off and picked up the fallen firearm. He thought about pointing it at her back and shooting, but saw Sam's small shake of his head. Disappointed, Dean lowered the weapon. He didn't want to take Gail without Sam to back him up. Feeling another wave of betrayal, that his brother was once again choosing some supernatural monster over his own family, Dean cradled the weapon in the crook of his arm. Pride stinging, he glared at the small woman's back and yelled. "I can't imagine anyone ever wanting to sleep with you!"

Gail glanced back at him and shrugged. "You'd be surprised. Probably, really surprised." Her smile grew wicked and then she shook her head. "But that's okay, since I can't have sex anyway." Dean watched his brother open his mouth, feeling the question that was resting on his tongue, the desire to know why she said that. Dean wanted to know why his brother would want that information. "It's not something we're going to discuss, Sam." She said. "What I will point out is that River Pass has absolutely no strategic or tactical advantage to the war you've been fighting." She pursed her lips and smiled, exposing pearly white teeth. They were well shaped and had obviously been corrected by braces at least once, if not more times during her life. It was another sign, that despite her grungy appearance, the girl had come from a well-to-do family. The kind of normal childhood that Sam and Dean had no experience with and even if they had, they couldn't remember. "Fighting and losing."

"I won't sacrifice my friends for the sake of winning a war!" Dean yelled.

Gail's eyes became hooded in their sockets and grew calculating. Silently, she tipped her head to the side and then shook it. "That," she began in her best Yoda impression, voice coming from deep in her throat and emerging as groaning croak. It wasn't very good, destructive to the ears and a travesty to the original interpretation done in Star Wars. Honestly, it was the sort of impression that never should have graced the light of day, so bad was it. But Gail kept going, enjoying the irritation on Dean's face as a purple mark blossomed under his jaw. "Is why you fail."

Without any more words, she saluted to Sam, stepped back and disappeared over the edge.

Sam watched her fall, slow, and land lightly on the rocky bed of the shallow stream. Water coursed around her ankles as she glanced up at him and stuck out her tongue. "See you on the other side!" She called and then turned, walking through the stream and disappearing up the incline into the trees.

"You know," he said after a moment, as his brother considered how they were going to get down. "She had a point."

"Don't tell me you're already falling under the sway of another supernatural bitch, Sammy!" Dean growled, taking a seat and putting his legs out over the edge, testing the concrete slide.

"I'm not!" Sam snapped, stung. "I just said she had a point. We don't have much time."

"You want to leave Rufus to die, Sammy? Is that how it is?"

"No!"

"Then stop listening to her lies and come on!" Dean knew what was best. Gail couldn't be trusted and he wouldn't let her get her claws into Sam. He wouldn't let another monster use his brother. Dean glanced up at Sam. He couldn't trust Sam to do what was right either. Clearly, his brother hadn't learned his lesson. "Besides Sammy, she hit me!"

"You deserved that too." Sam muttered.

Using his boot, he pushed his brother forward and down the slide. Watching Dean hit the water with a yelp, Sam sighed.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled, indignant as his butt landed in the water.

He'd probably just earned two black marks by sticking up for Gail. _Not that she needs my help._ But Sam didn't like the way his brother called her a freak. Sure, she wasn't the nicest person and clearly didn't care whether they lived or died. She was only here because the angels told her to be and Sam knew she'd only follow their instructions to the letter. She wouldn't go farther. But, oddly enough, Sam found her to be refreshingly honest. He felt the comparison to Ruby was unfair. Gail continued to go on about how useless they were but that was where it ended. Unlike the angels and the demons, she didn't seem to feel that they were very important. Hell, she barely knew who they were. Sure, he didn't like her much but… _It's nice to see someone else give Dean back all the crap he deals out._ Sam hadn't even realized it until he'd watched his brother fly. All his guilt kept him from talking back to Dean, but his brother's attitude was wearing him thin. Looking out, he saw Gail step out onto the road on the other side. She was peering down at the wet Dean with a delighted grin. _It would be nice to know more about her._ Sam thought. They hadn't talked much, but Sam wondered how Gail would react to him. _She'll probably blame me for breaking the world._ Everyone else did. Still, Sam didn't like his brother calling her a freak.

"The days just keep getting weirder." He muttered and slid down the slide.

**A/N:** It's short I know and could probably use a beta. Anyway, here's a new chapter, hope you enjoy. I've been a little slow on the inspiration lately, but I'm sure it'll pick up. Warning to all readers: swearing at violence will exponentially increase in the later chapters, especially when Mace really revs up. Serious adult themes, so if you're squeamish, just see how it goes. I'm sorry that it's taken me so long to update on this site, like I said, this story is going to get very violent, so... yeah.

Also, the lack of reviews has been off putting, so if you want more review please.


	9. Chapter 9: Little Disappearing Lass

**Chapter Nine: Little Disappearing Lass**

_Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate, Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure._

The air was cold. Chilled, it bit at the skin of the three travelers on the late September afternoon. Two men walked in the front, shotguns nestled in the crooks of their arms as their gaze swept across the road. A young woman followed behind them, strolling casually, her dark eyes alert as she watched the shadows between the towering pine trees. One man was tall, standing several inches above six feet. The other was shorter, only five foot ten. They were moving towards the outskirts of the small town of Rock Springs. The two men carried shotguns and packs on their backs, the young woman carried nothing, her hands stuffed deep into the pockets of her loose leather jacket. Her dark eyes silently scanned the area and there was a curious smile playing on her lips. Contrary to Gail Olivia Spark's casual indifference, Sam and Dean Winchester watched the broken road nervously, their eyes and ears alert, expecting an attack from any direction.

The main street leading into Rock Springs was wide. Fresh green lawns dotted either side of the two sidewalks, looking homely and friendly in front of old time, two story brick buildings. A forest green sign with golden, blocky lettering and the picture of a jumping bass beneath it jutted out from one of the taller buildings. It read: "Ammo, Rods and Reels" in down the side in evenly spaced bullet points. Below it and to the right was a broken sign advertising a sale. Cars were parked in driveways along the streets as a cool breeze blew through town. It was eerily quiet, without even a breeze to rustle the tall bushes planted up and down beside each of the houses. With no sign of people or movement, the Winchester brothers were beginning to feel unnerved. They'd experience similar phenomena before during an incident two years ago when an entire town disappeared, but here it was strange. They knew that demons, or what they liked to call demons had attacked the town. The question was, where was Rufus and the rest of the townspeople?

Sam constantly glanced back over his shoulder at Gail, while his brother purposefully kept his eyes straight ahead. "Think we should have given her a weapon?" He asked. He knew his brother didn't care much for Gail, especially not after she'd clocked him across the jaw and sent him sprawling. _Not that it wasn't deserved._ He was fairly sure that the strange young woman could look after herself. She didn't seem the least bit worried about wandering into a town potentially infested with demons. _She kinda looks like she's out for a stroll in the park._ Sam knew that should unnerve him, but it didn't. Instead, he found it strangely comforting.

"No." Dean said, his voice gruff as he stared up an empty gravel trail. He saw nothing at the end of it except houses. But there wasn't any movement in the windows or signs of actions. _If the bitch takes a bullet to the head my life might get a whole lot easier._ Dean twitched and lifted his fingers to the purple bruise that was spread under his chin. Pressing it, he winced. It'd been a few hours and his jaw was still stinging from Gail smacking him. How strong was she anyway? _I should've asked Bobby to try and research these Eternals…_ Was that what they were called? Dean shook his head and kept walking. _Let Sammy try to play the nice guy, that bitch'll bite him just like Ruby._ Dean was done playing Mr. Intervention. If Sammy wanted to hang himself out to dry, he was more than welcome to. _Just so long as he doesn't get anybody else killed._

"Look Dean," Sam began. He knew he was already on thin ice but he didn't feel right just leaving the girl afloat with nothing solid to protect herself. He didn't know what sort of powers or tricks she had and he was fully aware that the girl was more skilled than both of them at hand to hand. _But sometimes magic and fists aren't enough._ He knew that from first hand experience. "I know Gail's not your favorite person right now…"

Irritated, Dean's pace quickened. "If she wanted one she'd of asked, Sammy!"

"Dean!"

Dean came to a dead stop at the center of the road and turned to look back at his brother. His hazel eyes narrowed as he watched Gail do a strange hop, step, jump more than a few paces behind them. He was relieved to see that her eyes were on the sky, dreamily staring off into space. He didn't want her to overhear what he was about to say. "Get a grip Sammy," he growled. "The only reason you care right now is because that bitch messed with your mind!"

Sam blinked and took a step backwards. "Wait." His voice rose an octave. "What?"

"Admitted it herself." Dean said. He couldn't keep a note of triumph from his voice. Gail wouldn't have any sway over Sammy after this. He didn't care what his brother did, but Sam needed to know the truth. _And I won't have to deal with him taking anyone else's side over his brother's._ "That's why you handed shotgun over to her."

Sam shook his head. "Dean, I gave her the front to be nice."

"No," Dean snapped. "She used her mental voodoo on you to get what she wanted. Used something she called spiking, made you fall in love with her."

"I'm not in love with her, Dean."

"Could've fooled me, Sammy. You've been bending over backwards ever since she showed up!"

Sam sucked in a deep breath. "It's because you're been a dick!" He snapped. "Not because I'm in love!" He wasn't in love with Gail. The only woman he'd ever truly loved was Jess. Madison ran a close second, but he'd never had time to get to know her. It was the same with Sarah. Gail was just… Well… _I find her attractive and odd._ She was also the only person who wasn't blaming him for what happened. _ [I[But that's not why I'm being nice._ Sure, he'd felt something when she'd asked for the front seat. His heart had quickened and he'd thought… _Is Dean right?_ They didn't know Gail. There was a good chance that they couldn't and shouldn't trust her. _But…_ Sam glanced back over his shoulder at her. Gail was looking at them now, her head tilted to the side, one dark eyebrow quirked. Her lips were pursed. Sam waited for his heart to skip a beat, but it didn't.

Dean couldn't believe that Sam was skeptical. After everything they'd seen, how could Sam doubt him? Sam was the one who'd made all the bad choices lately, if he'd just listened to Dean then they wouldn't be in their current mess. "Don't believe me, Sammy? Ask her yourself!"

Sam shook his head.

"Whatever." Dean said and continued on into the town.

Nestling his shotgun in the crook of his arm, Sam turned and dropped back to Gail's side. Silently, seeing her inquisitive expression he shook away his doubts and swallowed. Shrugging his backpack into a better position, he said. "Hey, I got a handgun in the pack. It's not much, but it's yours if you want it."

"Won't be necessary." Gail said.

With a cough, Sam added. "Dean said he'd take point. He sent me back here to look after you."

Gail snorted and glanced up at him, a wry smile on her lips. "Sure, he did."

Sam stopped, silent. She kept walking and Sam fell into step beside her. Not knowing how to get her talking again or broach the subject of what had happened by the car, Sam was quiet. An awkward silence settled between them as they made their way towards the center of town. Sam tried to keep his eyes on lookout, scanning the area. Before them, an aqua colored sedan was overturned, the glass of its window scattered across the pavement. The roof was crushed. They watched the broad back of Dean Winchester move forward to check it out. Sam glanced at Gail, her head had tilted to the side and her tongue chased over her lips. He couldn't tell if she was worried.

Sam swallowed. "Think something strong did that?"

"Could be." Gail shrugged.

Sam sighed. She was being oddly abrupt. _Maybe she switched out personalities._ He'd only met Mace once and she, he, it or whatever hadn't seemed to interested in him. _Or Dean._ Which was unusual. All the angels and demons that they'd met had some recollection of who they were. Mace hadn't and Gail didn't really seem to care that they were the Winchesters. _She just likes telling us how stupid we are._ And that they were wrong all the time. "Are you okay?"

Gail groaned. She looked up at him with a frown, her hands fleeing her pockets to find shelter in the crooks of her elbows as her arms crossed over her chest. "Why don't you just ask what it is you want to ask, Sam? Let's get it out of the way so you can focus on this not so very dangerous town, the overturned cars, and the blood spattered streets."

"Blood spattered?"

Gail's finger lifted and pointed beyond the aqua colored car to a large smear of red that was visible beneath a brown and yellow flapping banner. "You know, they were having a celebration here. Maybe they've got some left over cakes or something." She patted her stomach mournfully. "I'm getting hungry. I'm gonna go look for some."

Sam's jaw worked soundlessly as she sprang forward into a purposeful trot, making her way around the overturned cars towards the abandoned stores that lined Main Street. "How could she possibly know that?" He glanced at his brother.

Dean rolled his eyes and stood. "She's more retarded than we are?"

Ahead of them, Gail stopped and turned. "No, asshole." She said. "It's because the missing bodies," she lifted her fingers and motioned towards the destruction littering the street: the broken windows, the cars, and the crimson blood splattered on the pavement that was pooling and dripping off the sidewalks. "Haven't started to smell yet." She tapped her skull. "It's my magical powers of deduction and logical thought, try them sometime."

"I knew that." Dean growled. "It was too obvious to mention, we've seen corpses before."

"Yeah? Good." Gail said. "Now, see if you can follow this thought to its conclusion without the train derailing." She tossed her head. "The good news is that no one's having a barbeque, which means we're not facing an invading horde of intelligent human eating monsters. Lucky us. The bad news… Well, the bodies got up and wandered off. Maybe the dead finally figured out how to get back into 'em. That'll be fun. If so, then this apocalypse is starting earlier than scheduled and we've got the fun and funny zombies to deal with. The question becomes which kind? The shamblers? The runners? The smart ones? The dumb ones? Is it a necromancer started virus? There really are too many questions to ask and they can only be answered with more data." She tilted her head to the side. "We should go get some."

"Rufus said there were demons." Dean snapped. "They're probably all possessed."

"All of them?" Gail shook her head. "A town like this'll have at least a couple hundred residents, if not more, and you want to believe that all of them are possessed? There's no reason for several hundred demons to show up here. This town isn't worth anything."

"Since when do demons ever need an excuse to start trouble?" Dean fired back.

"But how do you know they're demons?" She looked a little cross. "Just because your hunter friend said they were? That's sort of naïve. Anyway, to get low-grade destruction like this, you don't even need one. Frankly, there's not enough blood for it to be a demon and this kind of thing isn't their style. Though it would explain the lack of bodies."

"I don't think I want to ask…" Sam began. Somehow he knew he would regret bringing up the question. "What does it look like…"

"They like to splatter people's insides all over the walls." She said. "Especially when they're having fun." Gail sighed. "Here's a quick and dirty explanation: demons just like angels except that they have a sense of humor."

"Right." Dean said.

Gail continued. "And if you mean your hellspawn thingies, again, in a town like this there's no reason to have more than one. Maybe two. Maybe. If that's true, then where are the rest of the bodies?"

"We don't know yet." Sam said. She was making an interesting point he thought and placating her was probably in their best interests. He didn't even need to glance at his brother to know that Dean was getting fed up with this whole conversation. "That's what we're trying to figure out."

"Right, right." Gail smiled. "I knew I was missing a step. God, you people are slow."

Sam fixed her with a long glare, hating how distracting she was being. He got the feeling that she was intentionally provoking them. _Dean especially._ And even though there was the possibility of an attack from anywhere, she was nonchalantly relating these facts like they were on a leisurely stroll. _Not in the middle of a clearly war torn small town._ It was information that would have been useful before they'd come and he opened his mouth to ask if there was anything more she knew, but his brother cut him off.

Dean growled. "Let's get moving." And stomped down the street, eager to get away from the strange girl as fast as humanly possible.

How could the sight of destruction and blood possibly make her hungry? He could understand being aroused but hungry? _How the hell do you get that desensitized?_ He didn't care. Either way, they still had to find Rufus. Maybe he could tell them what was going on. _And get Gail to stop being a pain in the ass._ It wouldn't do any good talking to her, not know and he wasn't in the mood to get lectured or hit again. _Stupid, fucking little know it all._ Taking a deep breath, knowing that he was several feet ahead of her again, he slowed to a walk and began examining the streets again.

The closer they got to the center of the town, the worse the destruction looked. Shop windows were busted, cars were overturned, and electric sparks shot off broken fuse boxes. Blood painted the tables of the local diner and the jagged remains of the large glass panes that had once been windows. Walking past a cherry red Mustang parked along the sidewalk, Dean whistled with appreciation. It was a nice vehicle and still in perfect condition. He checked back over his shoulder at Gail and Sam, the two were walking side by side again. Gail was to be back in cloud cuckoo land, staring up at the clouds in wide-eyed contemplation. Her hands linked behind her back. Dean was suddenly very glad that Sam hadn't given her a gun.

_Don't want her misfiring the thing and giving away our position._ If all that racket she'd been making hadn't done that already. _Some help she is._ Why had the angels even sent her? Dean understood that she was strong and seemingly knowledgeable but her attitude didn't help the situation. _Then again, when has any angel besides Anna or Cas even tried to be helpful?_ She constantly reminded him that the angels hadn't _sent _her to help. But Dean didn't understand how a person could look at all of this and not feel something. _Someone who doesn't isn't human._ But she constantly reminded them of that too. Crossing the street and heading towards a white, wood paneled church Dean motioned for Sam to catch up. He heard his brother's quiet footsteps and felt the small push of air as Sam came up beside him. He didn't look back to see where Gail was. He assumed that she could handle herself. _Probably better than Sam can_.[/I[ He glanced at his brother and motioned to the long smeared trail of blood that had dried into a rusty colored purple. There was a good chance that they'd find answers in that building.

There was a click behind them, the sound of a pistol being cocked.

Together, Dean and Sam spun around, shotguns raised and ready. They were surprised by who they saw. It was the familiar face of an old friend.

"Ellen?" Sam asked. His voice betraying his own disbelief, Rufus hadn't said anything about there being other hunters in the town. But given his predicament at the time he'd called, it was understandable that he'd neglected some details. Worried, Sam looked around for Gail. She'd been behind them. _And she doesn't know Ellen._ His eyes scanned the area behind their old friend.

"Hello boys." Ellen said. She kept her pistol raised, the barrel trained on Dean's chest, her thumb twitching on the safety. Her index finger was looped around in front of the trigger and calm. Ellen didn't look nervous, just cautious. Cool and ready to shoot. Then, she smiled and lowered her gun. She started walking towards them.

"Ellen, what the hell is going on here?" Dean asked.

Ellen's answer was a splash of holy water in his face and bringing the pistol back up to his face, ready to shoot.

Blinking away the water, Dean glanced back at his brother. Sam looked just as shocked as he felt. Dean looked back at Ellen, watching her hand tremble as she held the gun, waiting for his response. "We're us."

The response good enough for her, Ellen dropped the gun and looked around. "Where's that girl you came with?" She asked. Her eyes hastily scanned the area, looking for the young brunette. "If you boys met her outside the town, she could be one of them."

"She's not." Sam said. "She's on our side."

"We think." Dean added, shooting Sam a dirty look. He wasn't about to go out on a limb trusting Gail. Especially not knowing where she'd disappeared to or when she'd done it. The girl was strange and dangerous. _It'd probably be better to keep my eye on her._ Wasn't she supposed to be watching him? _Fucking beings with cosmic powers, never around when you need 'em._ What if Ellen had shot him? Wouldn't that mean she failed her assignment?

"Then where is she?" Ellen asked. "If she's not one of them, then she could be in real trouble. Why'd you boys let her wander off?"

Sam and Dean looked at each other helplessly. Sam opened his mouth. "She's not exactly…"

Dean tried at the same time. "See, Ellen the thing is…" How exactly did one explain that the angels had given him a bodyguard? The rest of it was so crazy that telling Ellen about someone whose status they couldn't quite define seemed like suicide. She was already on edge as it was.

"What?" Ellen asked. She looked from one boy to the other, seeing the guilty expressions on their faces. "You boys better start talking." She added, stalking past them. "But inside, it ain't safe out here."

Shrugging, Sam and Dean followed her. Sam was starting to get a bad feeling about the whole situation. He checked over his shoulder for Gail, but couldn't see her anywhere. _Where the hell did she go?_ He couldn't say this wasn't like her because he didn't know her. _Mind on the job._ They had bigger things to worry about.

**A/N:** I want to work on my more popular stories, I really do. But Horseman consumes my mind as usual, I have so many plans. So much fun in store! Though specifically because this story doesn't get read or reviewed that often, I'd really like to thank Kittykumi, Wgang16, X-Mad-Giraffe-Attack-X (Awesome name by the way!), Audri, and Magic's My Muse for either subscribing to or favoriting. There's nothing better than to seeing a message like that pop up in my inbox. I'd probably keep writing even if no one was reading, but knowing that someone does and likes it gives me warm and fuzzies inside. So thank you! :D I'll be posting the other chapters soon!

In the meantime, those who are reading please review.


	10. Chapter 10: With Slushie in Hand

**Chapter Ten: With Slushie in Hand**

_You know, that for almost the entire history of Western civilization this month has been a holy time. The Druids, winter solstice, Hannakah, the Romans converted Saternali into Christmas. Imagine that, Christ wasn't even born on this day. Maybe not even ninteen hundred ninety-seven years ago. So no one knows for sure when the millennium really begins. And how much time is left._

-Peter Watts, Millenium

Slapping a cap on her large blueberry slushie, Gail watched the Winchesters follow a woman towards the church through the window of the Black Bear Minimart. The woman's name was Ellen and from the look of her, Gail was certain that she was another hunter. _One the boys are acquainted with._ That was interesting. That Ellen woman had seen her right before Gail had made her exit. _She wanted to shoot me._ Gail knew that it was wise that she hadn't. _She's got a better sense of self-preservation than Dean, that's for damn sure._ Dean wouldn't know danger if it walked right up to him and waved a flamethrower in his face. But this Ellen… She knew. "Did you have to scare her?"

_Yes._

Grabbing a long red straw from the rack, Gail plunged it into the cold ice. Swirling it around in the blue stained mess, she made her way down the aisle and past the cash register, to lean against the frame of the door. Her lips quirked for a moment as she watched Sam glance around, he was looking for her. _Looking in all the wrong places._ She had told him that she was hungry. Putting the straw to her lips, she sucked blue stained ice chips up into her mouth. Swallowing, she wiped her mouth. The boys were disappearing around behind the back of the church, there was a door back there and she could sense fifteen people waiting in the basement. Fourteen were normal, average humans. Well, nothing that posed a threat to her. One was not.

"Think they suspect anything?" She asked aloud. There was a moment of silence and she heard the derisive laughter of her alter ego. Gail started kicking herself for asking such a stupid question. Of course they didn't suspect anything. The Winchesters were like minnows kept in a small fishbowl. They'd been taken out of that, tossed into the ocean, and left to swim with the sharks. She almost pitied them. Almost.

_No._ Mace's deep voice reverberated through her mind.

Gail started, surprised. Mace had been lurking close to the surface since they'd entered the town. She had sensed what Gail had and was amused. "Think he does?"

_Roon doesn't look at anything twice. He saw what he expected. Nothing more._

"Well, he's always been a bit of a retard."

_I'm going to enjoy killing him._ In the back of her mind, she felt the ancient warrior stretch and a grim smile, one that was not her own, spread across her lips and she laughed. It was gruff and cold, coming from the lowest register of her vocal chords. Mace was most comfortable in a male body and though he had been forced by outside circumstances to take female shape, his motions and speech patterns always reflected his preferred gender. In modern terms, he was butch. _Very funny._

"I thought so." Gail replied. Cheekily, she took another long sip of the slushie. She turned away from the window and walked across the aisle. Hopping up onto the counter, she crossed her legs and tilted her head, watching the outside. She knew her tendency to get distracted, but it was comforting to know that Mace was also watching. There were another few moments of silence as Gail tried to swallow her worries. Finally, she said. "You don't seem all that concerned. Are you sure about this?"

_Fighting Roon? Yes._

"But you're still not at your best." She said. Gail couldn't keep the nervousness out of her voice. In the year since they'd gotten their powers back, she had fought many things. But neither she nor Mace had faced off against another Eternal. "I mean, I've done what I can, what I remember how to, and it's hard working outside myself on myself…" Mace didn't answer. "What Fade did to us, it's only partially been dismantled. So, can you take Roon? I mean. We don't have to do this." From deep inside herself, a long tail lashed out of the darkness and smacked her hard across the back of the head. Gail winced and rubbed her skull. "I get it, stupid question."

She heard a sigh and felt her arms cross over her chest as she leaned backwards to stare at the ceiling. _We always fight wounded._ Was Mace's response. _ If we couldn't keep fighting through massive amounts of pain, we'd all have died a long ago._

"Right." Gail nodded. "I keep forgetting. You are what Terminators want to be when they grow up."

_Roon will die._

"Because you are bored." Gail sighed. "I get it. This'll break the stalemate between all of you guys right? And with the kids too?"

_Perhaps._

"Why hasn't it already broken? Roon's out here killing people, wouldn't that start something?"

_This is simply Roon being a fuck up and doing what he usually does._

"Meaning no one cares if a few hundred people die in a remote small town in the ass end of nowhere. So what about the kids? Why haven't they started doing their thing?"

_The Ancients are waiting to see what the big fish do._

"And the big fish are waiting to see what the other big fish will do. Good survival instinct, I guess. Most of the ops that they're running right now aren't ready to go active right? Ash and the others? That's why they haven't started moving?" There was silence and Gail groaned. Mace had left again. _Got tired of retreading old ground._ She didn't know how many times they'd been over this. "Apocalypses take a while to rev up. Everything doesn't end just cause Lucifer is out and the Eternals' abilities are active." But they'd always been active, some of them. Now though, the gloves had come off. "I'm so tired of waiting…"

_Brat._ Mace's voice was fond and with his voice, Gail chuckled. She felt herself smiling.

"You are too."

_I know how to keep myself amused._

"You get twitchy if you go six minutes without killing someone."

That got her loud and raucous laughter. Mace liked to laugh. It wasn't surprising, Gail was sure that the old Eternal was a level beyond insane. _He went through crazy and came out the other side._ But that didn't make him any less dangerous. The general assumption among people of this culture was that the crazies couldn't think as clearly as the rest of society, that it impaired them in some way. _It doesn't though._ Gail didn't know the full extent of what Mace was capable of and she wasn't sure she wanted to. She did know that Dean Winchester was walking on very thin ice with him. _If it wasn't for me, Mace would have killed him already._ And Mace would have done it in a way that made sure even the angels couldn't bring him back. _We should probably do that anyway._ The angels were behaving oddly and it left her feeling unsettled. Under normal circumstances they wouldn't even wait for Dean to say yes. They'd just hop into his body and send it up in a pillar of fire and smoke. They rarely, if ever, respected free will. She knew that from personal experience.

_Don't think about it too hard._ Mace's advice rumbled over her own thoughts. _Despite what it looks like, this isn't very important._

"I thought Michael was involved." Gail had never met the archangel but the thought of him made her shiver. She was still traumatized from the last time a trio of angels had decided to try to melt her brain.

_It's a game._ Mace replied. _Sometimes the Hierarchy likes to stretch their wings and get involved personally._

She listened to the irritated sigh. Lately, Mace had been in the mood to kill any angel they came across. She wondered if that was a new development. Probably, Mace didn't seem to really be bothered by them one way or another. For him, they were little more than a mild irritation. She was the one who was scared of them.

_And fuck things up for the rest of us._

"Two cocks strutting over a tiny bit of territory in the middle of their multiverse wide war. Brilliant."

_They're not known for being intelligent, kid._

"So your response is to kick up your heels and have a little fun?"

_Yes._

"Liar." Gail sighed. He was right. That was partially what he intended to do. But Mace never, ever told her the whole story, if he wasn't outright lying. He gave her tidbits of his past, but never more than that. If he was planning anything more than what he'd told her, and she was sure that he was, he wasn't going to include her in it. She knew he liked her, found her antics amusing. She was the only amusement he or she'd had for the past twenty-three years. He considered her valuable and he took care of her because he needed her. He shared what was necessary, but the rest Mace kept to himself. That was the best she could expect. Gail had no illusions. She was just another piece on the board. _Like the Winchesters._ Idiots that they were.

_You are an important piece._

"And you're the chess master."

Again, there was silence. Gail knew that Mace wasn't the only player sitting at the board, just one that no one expected. The other Eternals all believed he was dead, even if the Hierarchy knew better. This predicament they were stuck in was all thanks to a single misstep he'd made six hundred years ago in Colonial India. _In a timeline far, far away._ But, she hadn't fared much better. She'd been run over by a car in 1930s New York around the same time, a pawn in a plan to take another Eternal out of commission. Dumb luck had thrown them together. Taken to Hell, an Eternal named Fade had picked her out of a pile and fashioned her into Mace's shock collar, a broken interface, reprogrammed with a single purpose.

Lost in contemplation, she tapped her chest. She and Mace weren't alone in this body. There was one other player, the final part of the equation. "Is the succubus the reason why you didn't want to cross the Devil's Trap?" She couldn't think of any other reason. It wasn't like Mace planned on avoiding Roon, even if he was taking his sweet time about it. "You already said that Roon doesn't perceive us as a threat."

That got her nothing but silence. Mace had already retreated back into the shadows. Gail groaned and hopped down off the counter. Sucking in another long swig of blueberry ice, she shook the slushie and peered down the aisle towards the back. "Maybe there'll be something fun to watch on the security footage." She muttered. _God only knows how long it'll take the mice to peep their heads back out of their hidey-hole._ Too bad that they didn't know the cat was in there with them. _Well, they gotta learn sometime._ They wouldn't be of any use to her until they smartened up a bit. That was, if they could at all.

Across the street, Ellen pushed open the door leading down towards the basement of the local Presbyterian Church. It now served as a refuge for the survivors and base of operations as they tried to figure out what was going on and what to do. She was just glad that the Winchesters were here. She'd been worried about them. Worried more by the fact that she hadn't spoken to them in more than a year. She'd gathered the scraps from Bobby, but not more than that. Torn between anger at being left out of the loop and being overjoyed to see them alive and well, she wasn't sure what to think. There was also the problem of their traveling companion. Who was she? Ellen had caught a glimpse of the girl before she'd disappeared. She knew that she was short, brunette, and probably in her early twenties. Ellen was willing to guess around twenty-four years old. _She was there one minute and gone the next._ Kid wasn't human, Ellen knew that much. But the boys didn't seem to think she was a threat. _Not much of one, anyway._ Still, Ellen wasn't so sure. There was something about her demeanor that had rubbed Ellen the wrong way. _Especially when she looked back at me and smiled._ In that moment, Ellen's heart had froze, her finger squeezing the trigger of her gun as it hung by her side. But she couldn't lift it to take the shot. _I know what I felt._ Terror. _I was sure that the boys weren't themselves._ Not in the company of that…thing. Maybe they didn't know.

Soon as Dean crossed over the threshold, concern and relief won out and she flung her arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a tight hug. "Real glad to see you boys." She whispered. Looking over Dean's shoulder, she met Sam's eyes and saw him smile. Then, she let Dean go and a second later, slapped him hard across the face. "The can a whup ass I oughta open on you!" Ellen snapped. "What? You can't pick up a phone?"

Her eyes jumped to Sam as Dean rubbed his cheek, wincing. This was the second time a woman had hit him today. He glanced back at his brother, with raised, shocked eyebrows. He was surprised but Ellen's reaction but at the same time it was strangely warming. He knew that his brother didn't have anything to respond with either. Both were struck dumb by her reaction.

"What are you? Allergic to giving me piece of mind?" Sam was about to start smiling but then Ellen's hard eyes caught him over Dean's shoulder and he immediately swallowed it. The chewing out wasn't just for Dean. "I gotta find out that you're alive from Rufus?"

"Sorry, Ellen." Dean mumbled.

"Yeah, you better be." Ellen snapped. "You better put me on speed dial, kid!"

Dean glanced over his shoulder at Sam and then looked back at Ellen with a nod. "Yes, ma'am." His hazel eyes were completely serious.

There was another pause as Ellen blinked away the tears in her eyes. "Now, you better start explaining about your friend. Who is she?" Ellen refrained from asking "what is she?" though she wanted to. _You never know who might be listening._

"Her name is Gail Sparks." Dean said, rubbing his jaw. Just the mention of Gail's name brought back the memory of her knocking him off his feet. The girl clearly wasn't human. She'd already handed them their asses twice. _And I feel a hell of a lot better without her around._ He didn't feel like he was walking on eggshells.

"She's Dean's bodyguard." Sam added after a moment when it didn't seem like Dean was going to volunteer up anymore information. "We don't really know what she is, but she's not human."

"She never explained it in a way that made sense." Dean added.

"Yeah, her lack of humanity was obvious from the get-go." Ellen said. "We can discuss it later, right now we've got bigger things to attend to." She turned around and walked down the stairs, disappearing towards the basement.

Dean glanced back at Sam and met his eyes silently. He was surprised by Ellen's reaction and it was gratifying to see that Sam felt the same way. It was also nice that they were on the same page. It was also good that Sam hadn't felt the need to stick up for Gail. His brother was making a bad habit of it. _Good thing Ellen didn't dig to deeply._ Dean wasn't really sure what else he could have said. _Without letting the cat out of the bag._ And there was no need to tell Ellen that they were the ones responsible for ending the world. Together, the boys followed Ellen down the stairs.

**A/N: **A thank you to Ticketyboo103 for adding this story to their story alerts. It's much appreciated. Still, it'd be really nice to get some reviews, like really really really nice. Do I have to beg? It could even be monosyllabic, just let me know that you enjoy the story and that I'm doing a good job. That'd be cool. The next update will be uploaded soon.

Review.


	11. Chapter 11: Getting the Salt

**Chapter Eleven: Getting the Salt**

_To know a thing well, know it limits. Only when pushed beyond its tolerances will true nature be seen. Do not depend only on theory if your life is at stake._

_-_Bene Gesserit Commentary

There were fifteen people in the basement of the old Church. It was a refurbished recreation room with a long table lined with chairs. A flower and paisley tablecloth was laid across it with cups of water, milk, and cookies as if this was just a regular Sunday. There was an altar at the back of the room with a cross and three lit candles. There were women, old men, young men and men in their middle ages. What stood out to Sam and Dean most powerfully and was most sobering was that there were no children. None, not out of any of the fifteen survivors. They walked into a room full of worried and frightened faces. It didn't take a genius to know that these people had no idea about what was happening to them, to their friends, and to their town. Ellen introduced them as hunters, told these worried frightened people that they were here to help. _If only it were that simple._ Sam thought, swallowing. Up until this point he hadn't seen the effects of his choices but now the weight of the guilt swung into his stomach with the power of a sledgehammer. He wanted to leave the room, run away. _I did this._ It was all his fault.

"You guys hip to this whole demon thing?" Asked the tall soldier from behind them.

"Yeah." Dean said, turning to face him. "Are you?"

"My wife's eyes turned black." An older man, one in his early fifties with a dark tan and gray hair that was thinning at the top of his scalp said. "Kind of makes you embrace the paranormal." His name was Roger, printed on a plastic nametag that was still attached to his blue suit. Roger Pemberton. He had square glasses that framed his dark eyes. Submissive, he barely looked up from his fingers. Instead he stared, haunted at an empty corner of the room.

Dean turned back to Ellen, telling her to catch them up. Sam couldn't bring himself to look away. He felt that he had to stare, had to see. This was his responsibility. He brought this on. Bobby's words, even though they'd been said during the short hours he'd been possessed still rang in Sam's ears. _"This is your fault. Don't look at me. This is your fault."_ Bobby had said that he didn't mean them, but Sam wasn't so sure. He'd let everyone down. He was a disappointment. He had to make it up to them. _What about Gail?_ The very strange girl who'd been assigned to watch over Dean, to act as his bodyguard. _At least that's what she said._ And who wasn't doing a very good job of it. Sam didn't see any reason not to believe her and she'd already sent his brother flying once today. _But where did she go?_ Why had she wandered off? Dean seemed to think that they were better off without her, but Sam wasn't so sure. Gail was at the very least superhuman, she wasn't awed or wowed by the presence of an angel. She accepted them as a standard part of life, their existence wasn't in question. _And she looks at us like we're…_ Well, vermin. She didn't think they were special. _She didn't even know who we were._ That contradicted everything that he'd learned so far. The demons had said he was important. The angels had said that Dean was important. Now, Dean was slated to be Michael's vessel, the Apocalypse was nigh and Gail? She'd looked at this town, it's dead, and it's people, shrugged and said: "meh, seen worse". _I've never heard of Eternals._ Which was, he had to admit, a stupid name.

"Wait." Dean said. "You were hunting with Jo?"

"Yeah," Ellen nodded. "For a while now."

Sam blinked, that was surprising to say the least. Ellen had always been against Jo hunting. His gaze swung around the room again, looking from each hopeful face to the next worried one. Guilt knotted his stomach. They had to get these people out of danger. _Where is Gail?_ She could help them do it.

"Don't worry, Ellen." Dean said. "We'll find her."

Sam thought that sentiment was all well and good but they had other priorities to consider. He liked Jo as much as the next guy and still felt guilty about the time when he'd been possessed and nearly killed her. But that wasn't what was important here. "Either way," he said, breaking into the conversation. "These people can't just sit here. We have to find a way to get them out."

Ellen shook her head. "No." She said. Her gaze moved back around the room. "It's not that easy, I've been trying." The way she ended the sentence suggested that they'd already attempted to make a run for it.

Sam swallowed and looked around the room, seeing the results of the attempt before his eyes. "How many or you were there?" He murmured, his eyebrows furrowing his forehead with worried creases.

"Thirty."

"So you lost half." Dean said. It was a sobering thought. Gail's question about the missing bodies had come back to niggle at his mind. _Damn her._ He was just glad that she wasn't here to make sarcastic comments. _Or maybe the sight of these people would teach her a damn lesson in fucking humility._ He could only hope. The girl behaved like she'd never seen war or death, something that Dean had already seen too much of. _Well, she'll learn._ Maybe then she'd get knocked off her high horse. Again, he could only hope. "Well," he said. "There's three of us now."

"You don't know what it's like out there." Ellen said. "They're everywhere, round every corner, three people can't cover fifteen. We'd lose a lot more just trying to get to the outskirts of town."

Sam nodded. He found that surprising. The path into town had been strangely clear, especially if that many demons were wandering around. He didn't want to question Ellen's experiences, that was the last thing on his mind but it did make him wonder about what Gail had said. _Why the hell can't she be less cryptic?_ Or maybe she just enjoyed taunting them. Taunting Dean. Sam couldn't say that he completely blamed her. "Gail." He said. Looking at Ellen, he scanned the room again. "We have Gail, if we can find her then it'll be four not three."

"Gail?" Ellen asked. She remembered the girl who'd been with them. The one who'd smiled at her and disappeared. The thought of her helping sent chills up Ellen's spine, she wasn't even sure why, they just did. There had been something…cold in her eyes. Unpredictable. "The girl you came here with?"

"If she'll help." Dean said. _First Ruby and now Gail. Sammy's really racking up the attraction to the monster babes._ Ruby had lied to them and betrayed them. Gail was even more erratic than she'd been. _She doesn't even pretend to be on our side._ She wasn't some magical trump card. _We have to do it ourselves._ "Either way, we can't trust her Sammy. She'd probably just feed them all to the demons."

Sam frowned at his brother and shook his head. Dean was probably right, but there wasn't any harm in asking her. "What if we get everyone guns?"

"What?" Dean asked in a low voice. "You're gonna arm up baby bump over there?" With a small motion of his hand, he indicated the pregnant woman sitting next to a younger man.

Sam looked into her terror filled eyes and swallowed again. What was this? Shoot down all of Sam's ideas day? His brother seemed determined to oppose anything that came out of his mouth. _He's still sore about me siding with Gail over him._ Dean had been acting like a prick to her. It was only natural. _And we don't know how strong she actually is._ What would antagonizing her have gotten them? _If we can actually convince her to help us…_ Sam didn't know, but he had a feeling that Gail could be a powerful ally. _Something we're in short supply of._ He sucked in a deep breath. "Look," he said. "More salt we can fire at once the more demons we can keep away. Unless you've got a better plan…" He trailed off, watching as his brother's eyes circled the room again.

Those harsh hazel eyes, green in the low lighting of the room tightened as they passed over the priest. The Father stood at the back of the room, helplessly clutching his books while trying to keep some semblance of order, of control over he refugees. Looking into the brave man's eyes, Dean relented. "We passed by a sporting goods store on Main when we were coming into town." He said. "They probably still have enough guns in stock."

"And there was a mini-mart right across the street." Sam nodded. "They'll have salt."

"Alright." Dean sighed, regretting the words as they came out of his mouth. "It's a plan." _A plan?_ He thought. _I barely trust Sammy and now I'm thinking about letting him go out into a town full of demons on his own?_ He had to be crazy.

"Right." Sam agreed and turned to Ellen. "You stay here, we'll go."

"Maybe we'll even find that retard Gail." Dean coughed. _Like we'll actually convince her to join the party._

Ellen still didn't like the plan. "What about—"

"If Jo and Rufus are out there," Sam said. "We'll find them, Ellen. Trust us."

_I hope so._ Ellen thought as she watched the boys head towards the door. _Because believe me, we don't need anymore trouble._ Ryan, the soldier who was on leave from Iraq unbolted the door and let the boys out. Ellen pursed her lips worriedly as they disappeared and the smooth, polished oak double doors slammed shut behind them. But that was exactly what her gut said they were going to find. Trouble. More of it. That was what the Winchester's always found. _I just hope it doesn't come back to bite us._ There was still the problem of that mystery girl. Gail. The one neither boy had explained.

Once outside the door, Dean put up his hand, stopping his brother as Sam headed towards the stairs. "Hey," he said. "Hold on a minute." This hadn't been something that he'd wanted to bring up in front of Ellen or the scared refugees, they needed to see the two brothers as a united front. _Not one that's breaking apart._ With two boys who could barely trust each other. _Ellen doesn't need to see the reality._ But now the door was shut and they were on the other side. He was free to air his concerns. _Even though Sammy won't take them._ "Why don't I just go?"

"What?" Sam asked. He looked up the stairs and then back at his brother and then up the stairs again. "Alone?" _Here we go._ Dean didn't trust him. He'd made that very clear in the parking lot. _When we first met Gail._ Sam forced himself to keep a frown off his face, he didn't want to think about Gail right now. He wanted to think about his brother and Dean's lack of trust. _I need to figure out a way to get that trust back._ He understood that he'd fallen off the wagon. He really did. _I get that it's not something that's just going to come back right away._ But this wasn't the time to have this discussion. _Or the time to be benching me._ Sam was a big boy, he understood the score and the risks. _A hell of a lot better than those people in there!_

"Well, yeah." Dean said. He was trying not to make a big thing out of this. He wasn't succeeding. He knew it, but couldn't stop himself. "Someone's gotta stay here and give them Shotgun 101."

"Yeah." Sam nodded. "Ellen." He turned and headed for the stairs again. It was only Dean's hand on his upper arm, almost tugging at the fabric of his tan jacket that stopped him. He looked back at his brother, seeing the concern in his brother's eyes. Silently, he tried to swallow his irritation. _I'm not two years old, Dean._

_I don't want you out there, Sammy._ That's what Dean wanted to say. "Look," he said. "It's gonna go a lot faster if you stay here." _Out of the line of fire and away from the demon blood._ Gail had said something about his brother's addiction never going away. _Damn me if I could only remember exactly what she said._ He hadn't wanted to believe it. But it was a concern. "Okay?"

"While you go get guns, and salt, and look for Jo, Rufus, and Gail?" Sam asked. "That's stupid." _I just need you to trust me._

"Well," Dean paused. "Maybe not Gail." _I don't need her getting her claws into you either._

"That's stupid." Sam said. "And whether you like it or not, we need Gail."

"Don't start on her." Dean snapped. "I don't need your feelings for the latest demon babe in our lives getting in the way here."

"Gail isn't a demon, Dean."

"And that's exactly why you shouldn't be going out there!" Dean tried to keep his voice under control, but he'd nearly found himself shouting. Instead, he forced his voice back down to hiss. "I can handle this without you!"

"You know," Sam said, his own voice low. "You can just come out and say it."

"Say what?" Dean asked, his voice spiking nervously.

"That you don't want me going out there." Sam said. "Around demons."

"I didn't say that."

"Around Gail."

"I didn't say that."

"You're afraid I'll take one look at the blood and fall off the wagon."

"I didn't say that!"

Sam stared at his brother for another long moment. _No._ He thought, swallowing the rising anger. _But that's exactly what you're thinking._ How could they go out there with Dean not trusting him? How could they function as a team and hope for any kind of success? Sam didn't know, but he wasn't about to let his brother push him around. There was falling in line and there was being Dean's bitch. Sam was willing to do one but not the other. "Fine." He said. He couldn't stop his voice from coming out chilled as he turned and stomped up the stairs. "Let's go."

Sitting in the office chair at the mini-mart, Gail kicked her legs up on the desk as she rotated back and forth in the swivel chair. Pulling out the most recent security footage, she pushed the black tape into the VCR and pressed play. The small office had two televisions, one used for viewing old footage and one constantly showed what was going on in the store. Tossing what was left of her slushie in the garbage bin, she wrinkled her nose in disgust. It was murder sitting back here with the door closed and locked, watching the feed. No one had even come into the store.

"You know," she said, turning around to face the corpse of an old man. He was Indian, clearly one of the immigrants that came from India and the East. He was graying around his temples, he had a potbelly and his arms were stretched out helplessly towards the door. "You've really started to stink." His blood had pooled and dried across the floor. She'd decided that he'd died after being shot by his own shotgun, if the spray pattern across the chest of his ghost was any indication. From the smell, she could guess that he was only a day old. "Meaning that whatever went down here only started up recently." That much was obvious. If she had to guess, it started on the night that the final seal broke and Lucifer "escaped". _Most of his powers were made available to him that night._ It was only natural that Roon would kick up his heels and start having at little fun. _It's what Mace would do._ That got her a laugh.

_It's not what I would fucking do._

The ghost of the old man was standing behind her, moaning. They always did that and it was always unnerving. She'd never liked ghosts and they tended to come to her in droves. _One because I can see them._ Two because she was a necromancer by trade. _Or I was once, maybe, don't really remember._ She blamed the memory gaps on Fade. It was all his fault that she could only instinctively control her abilities, that she couldn't remember how they worked. It was very frustrating. _I don't want to burn him off or pop him_. But this was getting annoying. Unaware of her own internal desires, the ghost of the owner of the mini-mart asked her to kill his wife again. Apparently, his wife had been the one to kill him. Gail guessed that this was probably a trend.

"God damn." She grumbled. "It's like you're on fucking repeat. You're dead mister. It's time to move on." She held out her hand behind her and waved it. "Shoo." Knowing that hadn't done any good, she returned to watching as the patrons of the market suddenly started murdering each other. With a yawn, she paused the tape and checked the time stamp on the video. "12:00 AM yesterday." Well, that was a good a confirmation as any. "At least I finally found one dead body." It wasn't very comforting. She leaned her cheek into the palm of her hand and pulled open a bag of almonds. Popping one into her mouth, she chewed and swallowed, trying not to gag on the wafting smell.

_Wimp_. Mace's voice was strong in her mind and the laughter reverberated through her. Mace had no problems eating over corpses. Mace had no problems eating corpses, though she/he preferred his/her prey living.

"Shut up." Gail growled. "I'm in charge of steering the meat sack."

_The boys are on the move._ Mace told her, voice lazy. She could feel the ancient being lounging in the back of her mind. She half expected Mace to start yawning. _They have some plan._

"They can plan?" Gail asked as she switched off the video.

_Wrong enemy in mind._ This time Mace did yawn. _They want to save fucking innocent villagers. Fuck it._ Mace found the idea of the survivors as innocents to be a hilarious concept. _I should just let Roon fucking play._

"You're already bored."

_So is he._ Mace replied. _This whole fucking thing will be over soon. Just you watch. He's going to fucking break cover. It'll be a slaughter._

"Of about forty people." Gail sighed and chewed on another almond. She was going to need the food. "None of them important or able to defend themselves."

_Fuck them._ There was more laughter. _They're going to fucking die anyway. You know that. You can read the fate strands kid, you fucking knew the different ways this could play out before walking into this town. Just like you knew the fucking xenophobic Winchesters wouldn't listen to anything you said._

"Knowing the future puts you and Roon on equal footing though."

_Never been his skill. Doesn't understand how reality works._ She felt the mental shrug. _Besides, knowing the end of the fight ruins the fucking surprise. Roon's attitude is about enjoying not winning. That's why he's easy to kill._

Gail looked at the screen of the television and saw Sam walking into the mini-mart. "I knew he was going to come." She said. "He'll be ambushed by two, no, three others before Dean can get here. He can't stop them all."

_Good thing you're here._ Mace chuckled. Gail sighed. She knew that wasn't what her alter ego meant at all. Mace had something in store for the Winchesters. He like Roon was bored and needed a release. Gail knew what form that release would take and every time, it made her wince. But there was nothing she could do.

"Good thing."

**A/N:** Yay! More Horseman! Thanks to everyone who is reading, it's nice to know that some people are. Anyway, thanks for the story subscriptions and favorites, it means a lot.


	12. Chapter 12: A Mace to the Face

**Chapter Twelve: A Mace to the Face**

_Do you wanna come with me? 'Cause if you do then I should warn you, you're gonna see all sorts of things. Ghosts from the past; Aliens from the future; the day the Earth died in a ball of flame; It won't be quiet, it won't be safe, and it won't be calm. But I'll tell you what it will be: the trip of a lifetime._

–The Doctor

The sun was high overhead as Sam and Dean exited the church, their eyes scanning up and down each side of the road as they crossed the street. Sam could feel his brother lingering close behind him, his gun pointed in the opposite direction. But Sam knew that Dean was watching him out of the corner of his eye and the lack of trust was starting to get suffocating. _And impractical._ How were they supposed to protect the town, find Jo and Rufus, and save the survivors huddled up in the church basement if Dean couldn't trust him to carry his own weight? Sam wasn't sure he wanted to know. _We also don't have the time fight it out._ Or had his brother not noticed that the town had been laid waste to by demons? _I'm in just as much danger as everyone else and more competent than most. What's the point of sidelining me?_ Sam swallowed his irritation as they continued across the street.

On the other end, near where they'd entered the town, Sam could see the long smear of blood across the asphalt. The black sedan just across from them had a cracked windshield. One someone had obviously been thrown into. Maybe in a fit of telekinetic rage? Sam didn't know. He glanced at Dean. His brother continued to stare forward with steely eyes, unmoved by the destruction around them. His finger tightened around the trigger of the shotgun as he brought it up, nestling it in the cradle of his shoulder. Finally, he said. "You get the salt. I'll get the guns."

Dean shook his head. "We'll do it together." He said, his voice gruff. He had no intention of letting Sammy go into danger alone. Not after what happened with Ruby and breaking the final seal. He wasn't about to let his little brother fall off the wagon. Not again.

Sam looked at his brother in dismay. Then he looked up the street at the mini-mart and grimaced. "Dean." He growled. "It's right there. Can't we at least do this like professionals?" Cocking it he continued forward as Dean slowed down behind him.

Dean came to a stop and watched his brother move forward. He didn't want to admit it, but he was hurt. He frowned, silent and said nothing. Watching as Sammy disappeared up behind a Ford Truck and into the River Pass Quick Mart. He knew this was a bad idea. _Fine Sammy._ He thought. _We'll do it your way._ Gail was still out here somewhere, but Dean was relieved that Sam hadn't mentioned her. _There's no way that little bitch'd be in the Quick Mart._ And if she was, what were the chances that she'd hurt Sam? _She's workin' for the angels, so pretty damn good I'd guess._ Besides, if that bitch poked her head out of her hidey hole and threatened Sam? _Then I'll just fill it with holes._ No sense playing nice. He'd had his fill of evil bitches. Rubbing his chin and wincing as he put pressure on the bruise, he turned and headed off down the road. He'd do his business and be back. _And if you're listening you bitch, I better find Sammy in one piece!_

Inside the River Pass Quick Mart, Gail was still watching the security camera. Plugging her nose, she yawned and glanced back over her shoulder at the body of the dead min-mart shopkeeper. There still seemed to be a horrible irony in the fact that he was an Indian from India. _It's even more ironic that I feel I have clarify that in my head_. The man's ghost was still lurking and wailing. He'd been begging her to avenge his killer for the past fifteen minutes and it was getting old. "I'm never going to get rid of you am I?" She asked, rolling her eyes. There was a very quick way to get rid of him, but alone with only herself and her alter ego, Gail was fully willing to admit that she liked the company. _At least someone wants me around._ It was almost refreshing. _If he could hold up a half decent conversation._ The problem was that when he wasn't screaming for her to avenge his murder, he didn't seem to realize that he was dead. "I'm going to be vampire Willow here for a minute." She told him, lifting her fingers. "Bored now." She snapped them. The specter not visible to anything but her spiritual second sight went up in flames. He screamed. Loudly. Then he was gone.

She tapped the side of her head and groaned. "Blessed, blessed silence." It was so rare for her to experience that.

_Then why didn't you get rid of him earlier?_

"I was trying to be nice." She replied. "You know, nice? Kindness? The emotions you find…er…foreign?" Mentally, she felt a hard scaly tail flick the back of her head. Hard. "Ouch. I didn't deserve that." The tail whacked her again. "I didn't!" She sighed. Her head hitting the keyboard

Seeing a familiar lanky frame of Sam Winchester on the screen, Gail looked up. He was making his way through the aisles. She watched for a moment as he knelt down and began collecting small canisters. "Oh yay." She muttered. "A Winchester walking into a very obvious combat sequence…er…trap." Leaning on her palm, she groaned. "Honestly," she stood and walked to the door. "Fifteen odd years of combat training," Gail pushed it open, slamming the wooden barrier head first into an oncoming enemy. She stepped into the corridor and let the door close behind her, ignoring the bloody smear now scraped across the black paint. It was six feet high. A man's height. She looked down at the squirming teenager now rolling on the floor, clutching his forehead. He was maybe sixteen years old. "And he doesn't bother to check the perimeter."

_Fucking amateur._

Watching as the boy lifted the nine-millimeter handgun he was clutching and pointed it at her chest, Gail sighed. Well, he'd just broken Mace's cardinal rule. No guns pointed in her direction. Ever. She couldn't help him now. "Tag team switch?" She asked. She got a laugh and sighed. The boy was looking at her wide-eyed, she could see the dilated pupils of his dark blue eyes. _I must resist urge to make obvious Dirty Harry reference_. He was scared and he was looking at her like she was insane. _Well shucks, I guess I just get to be the big bad monster today._

_Not by a long shot kid._

_Cannot resist urge…_ "I'm really sorry about this," she said as the boy's finger started to squeeze the trigger. "I really am, cause no one should have to suffer through yet another bad Dirty Harry reference but since this might be my only chance…" She smirked, tilting her head to the side. "Do you feel lucky punk? Well? Do ya?"

_Don't worry, kid. He won't have enough time to scream._

Alerted to the sound of a door slamming into something, Sam looked up. He put the last bottle of rock salt down into his bag and waited for a moment. Moving from a crouched position to an almost standing one, he poked his head up over the shelves. His eyes scanned the room but saw nothing. _Okay, that came from the direction of the back and the bathrooms._ Which meant he wasn't alone in here. _Knew I should've checked this place out._ About ready to head towards the back and see what was going on, Sam stopped. There was a jingle from the front as someone entered. He ducked. Peering up over the shelves, he looked over and saw two teenagers, probably between the ages of seventeen and nineteen. They're eyes were black. _Demons._ Sam swallowed his disgust. _Demons possessing kids!_ That was as low as it got.

He checked the overhead mirror, frozen in place, following the motions of the two teens. Neither carried guns, which forced Sam to breathe a sigh of relief and offer up a prayer of thanks. One had a baseball bat and the other a canvas bag. They both wore trucker hats with odd insignia, ones he didn't recognize. _What am I going to do?_ The question hung in his mind as one of the boys moved across the aisle, back to him and started collecting water bottles.

Sam looked to the left and saw his shotgun resting on the second shelf, snug on top of cans of Chunky's chili. It was twelve inches beyond his reach. Still, it was the best defense he had against these enemies. The shells were loaded with salt, meaning he could keep the demons away while he had time to exorcise them from the kids. There was no reason for anyone to die here. Sam had already seen enough innocents kill. He reached, his fingers sliding around the wooden stock and for a moment he had it, then they slipped, knocking a chili can to the floor. Sam looked up. The boy had heard him. _Shit!_

Sam was already on his feet and backing up as the boy in a blue plaid shirt hurled a water bottle at his head. Sam kept the last canister of salt clutched firmly in his hand as the boy rushed him. Swinging a wild punch at his face, Sam caught the boy by the back of his shirt and flung him into the tall rack of shelves. The boy's arms crushed the bags of Lays Potato Chips and Kettle Corn. Shoving himself up, the boy spun around and clocked Sam across the jaw with a solid backhand strike. Thrown back, Sam felt his back rammed into the cold hard steel of the shelves as the boy's fingers closed around his neck, choking off his airflow. Gasping, Sam began the familiar chant of a Latin exorcism. "Exorcizamus te," the boy remained unaffected by his words, squeezing harder. "Omnis immundus," Sam threw up his arm, casting sprays of salt across the face of the demon. Before he could continue, the boy knocked his arm away, sending the canister of salt rolling across the floor. He reached for Sam's throat again.

But this time Sam was ready. His hand snaked down to Ruby's demon killing knife, the one he always wore belted to his hip. He yanked it free from its sheath as the boy rammed his shoulder into Sam's chest. Sam groaned and shoved the knife into the boy's abdomen. The boy cried out as Sam yanked the knife free and fell rolling on the ground, clutching his bell. The knife's serrated edge and the way it had sliced through the boy's intestines meant that the wound was a deathblow if the kid wasn't taken to the hospital. _And out in the middle of nowhere, what are the chances of that?_ Slowly, Sam began backing up. _There was another in here._ Where'd he gone? Heart hammering in his brain, Sam's eyes leaped up to the mirror. Hopefully it would give him bearings on where the other one was hiding. But, the other demon was nowhere to be found among the aisles in its smooth shining reflection. Nowhere. _Did he run?_ Sam wondered. Trying to slow his breathing down as adrenaline pumped through his system, Sam continued to back up.

Behind him, there was a loud and angry yell. Jumping Sam spun, but a body stepped past him, catching the arms of the young black man and shoving him backwards into the glass doors of the refrigerated beverages. Sam saw long brown hair and a petite body. _Gail?_ Without missing a step, the girl stepped forwards and slammed a closed fist into the boy's chest. Sam blinked, realizing that the boy struggled for a moment and then fell limp, his body held up _by her arm_. "Gail?" _Did she just…put her fist…through his…?_

Shattered glass and blood covered the floor. Gail's free hand went to the boy's shoulder and coolly yanked her arm free from his chest cavity, bringing the boy's heart out with it. She turned, her arm coated in crimson. Sam felt his racing heart stop as she gave him a grin. There was something off about her expression. "Here," she said. Her voice was several octaves lower than usual. It gave him chills and he wasn't sure why. "Catch."

Sam blinked in surprise as a bloody organ came flying at his head. His response, ingrained by years and years of training took over. He ducked. "What the hell!" The words escaped his lips as he stared up at her and into dark brown eyes. He watched her snort and then shake her head, crossing her arms over her chest. Her position was less feminine and more manly, the position his father had used to assume when Sam had failed at a simple task during training. _A technique Dean would have accomplished easily._ He could see something akin to disapproval glittering in those eyes, but at the same time soft lips that were all too feminine twitched with laughter. _The look Dad gave me when I was scared of the monster under my bed._

"Fucktard."

Sam blinked. "What?" He coughed and looked down. A knife was buried in his belly. Long, red lines were dripping down his plaid shirt. _What?_

Sam watched her shake her head. "Should've been watching me, not the heart." Sam felt his knees hit the floor. His skull rolling back as pain hammered against his brain. "Don't worry, kid the wound's mortal. You'll be dead in a few."

She started towards him. It was a lazy stride, effortless, and confident. She seemed unaware of, or simply didn't care that her arm was still dripping blood. _Blood_. Demon blood. Sam felt his head begin to pound. A similar sensation to when he'd killed Lillith. The feeling, it filled him, subsumed his mind and he found himself staring at her arm, wanting to taste the crimson droplets slipping off of it. His desire hammered against his brain. Vision blurred, he looked up. She was squatting in front of him; a grin spread from ear to ear, head tilted to the side.

"Shit." He heard her chuckle. "Distracted boys die early deaths. Didn't anyone teach you that?" He looked up into her eyes and reached for the knife. Ready yank it out of his stomach. His fingers scrambled to find the hilt. Where was it? "No."

He froze.

She smiled.

She reached out with nimble fingers, her hand lazily wrapping around a leather wrapped hit. Was it wrapped in leather? It was so much longer than he remembered. He felt her pull it free, it's blade ripping through his intestines. He stared at it. A long sword. When had it become a long sword? He'd thought it was a knife. Where'd she been hiding that thing? "Good boy." He felt her reach up and ruffle his hair like he was a child.

_Like I'm being rewarded._ She was different. Her stance, her walk, the way she tilted her head, everything. Gone was the slight bounce to the way she grinned, the sing song childish lilt to her voice, she sounded a little like a chain smoker now, her voice reverberating from deep in her throat. _She doesn't waste her motions._ He'd always noticed a little uncertainty to Gail, like her all her pride was just a front for a pool of insecurity. She'd always reminded him of himself. But not now… _Now, she's like a completely different person._ What had Gail called her alter ego? Terror crept into his brain as he stared into her brown eyes. He'd felt like he'd met this being before.

"Mace." The word croaked through his lips. He was getting dizzy. What had she said? _Don't worry, the wound's mortal._ Had she…had she _killed_ him? _Just like that?_ It seemed very anti-climactic.

He listened to her laugh. "Brain's not a total loss." Her hand was on his shoulder, why couldn't he move? "But you should've figured that out more than a minute ago. Poor logical thinking for someone who scored…what was it? A 174 on the LSATs." She shoved him with a swift flick of her wrist. Sam fell backwards, his eyes on her bloody arm. His shoulder hurt, but the rest of his body was becoming painfully stiff. His mind was fogging and she sounded so…far away. "Don't go so fast, kid." He heard her laughing. "Someone told me you… chers had stamina. Guess they were talking about, well, someone competent."

"You…"

He felt her pat his head. "Nighty night, boyo. See you in a few." Sam closed his eyes. All he saw was darkness.


End file.
